
Class 
Book 






X 4 . , % s**^ 



GopyrightE^. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/mentalmanoullo3f QQweiT^ii 



THE MENTAL MAN 



AN OUTLINE OF THE 



FUNDAMENTALS OF PSYCHOLOGY 



BY 

GUSTAV GOTTLIEB WENZLAFF, M. A. 

PRESIDENT OF THE STATE NORMAL SCHOOL 
SPRINGFIELD, SOUTH DAKOTA 



NEW YORK 
CHARLES E. MERRILL CO. 



COPTEIGHT, 1909 



BY 



CHARLES E. MERRILL CO. 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two CoDies Received 

JUN {4l«U3 

'class n IXVN"' 



PREFACE 

The object in producing this work is to present the 
subject in a concise and clear manner^ yet make its 
scope sufficiently wide to include, in the main, all proper 
mental phenomena. Aside from this, if the author has 
been dominated by any one idea more than by another, 
while writing this book, it is that the treatment should 
be such as to make the reader feel that the subject has 
relation to the actual conditions of life. The point of 
view is not that of the schoolmaster or theorist or 
that of the devotee to the laboratory merely. It was the 
author's aim to reach out a little into the verdure of 
^^ life's golden tree." Psychology is not a logic, describ- 
ing and explaining the processes of correct and fallacious 
thinking; nor a discussion merely of apperception, or 
the manner in which knowledge is acquired and ex- 
panded; nor merely a laboratory handbook of psycho- 
physical measurements ; but psychology is a science that 
should also show us the mind of man growing, striving, 
moved and moving, consciously and mysteriously work- 
ing and ever fluctuating and varying, often even to a 
pathological extent, — in short psychology should be the 
story and discussion of the Mental Man. 

To a large class of people — which, unfortunately, is 
only too large — psychology suggests a purely academical 
study, and one that is either distressingly vague and 
learned, or so simple and com_monplace as to be worth- 

3 



4 PREFACE 

less. Nevertheless^ psychology is a very important 
study. All that is known and felt is through and in mind; 
likewise all human action springs from the inner nature 
of man. Psychology is, therefore, a basic science, if truly 
made a study of the mind in its entirety, and it should 
be famihar to every man interested in getting a deeper 
insight into the life of the race, society, and its individual 
members. 

But psychology is not for babes. It is a serious study, 
and in spite of all pains, on the part of the writer, to 
be simple and concise, it requires effort, on the part of 
the novice in these matters, to understand. 

This book is not intended to be an exhaustive treatise 
on the subject. The author has painted with a large 
brush, having in view, for the most part, the essen- 
tial outlines, rather than the details. If time and in- 
clination permit and demand more detail, it will be 
found profitable for the student to consult special trea- 
tises on the various subjects with which general psychol- 
ogy has to deal. Many references to such works are 
given in the footnotes of this book. 

While in the execution of his task, the author of this 
book has not hesitated to use familiar facts found in 
works readiest at hand, as well as material of his own, 
yet he trusts that in no important instance has he failed 
to make proper acknowledgment. Especially does he 
wish to express his indebtedness for courtesies extended 
while preparing this book to Professors E. C. Sanford, 
L. F. Barker, Joseph Jastrow, J. L. Seaton, M. W. Cal- 
kins, J. H. Tufts, and J. R. Angell. 

G. G. W, 

June, 1909 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER I 

Introduction 

Interest in Psychology. Importance of Psychology. Future of 
Psychology. Development of Psychology. The New Psy- 
chology. Psychology Defined. Scope of Psychology. Men- 
tal Pathology in Psychology. Aim of Psychology. Methods 
in Psychology. Introspection. Objective Method. Compar- 
ative Method. Experimental Method. Differences between 
Psychology and the Physical Sciences. 

Pages 13-21 

CHAPTER II 
The Physical Basis 

Mind in Body. What is Life? Protoplasm and the Cell. Irri- 
tableness of the Cell. The Nervous System and the Neurone. 
Two Kinds of Neurones. Neurones Separate but Related. 
Neurone Activity. Five Classes of Neurones. First Class. 
Second Class. Third Class. Fourth Class. Fifth Class. Sum- 
mary of Functions of Neurones. Course of Impulses. Re- 
flexes. Reaction-Time. Reaction-Experiments. Results. 
Growth and Degeneration of Neurones. Anatomy of Nervous 
System. Nerve-Endings. Organ of Smell. Organ of Taste. 
Organ of Hearing. Labyrinth. Organ of Sight. Retina. 
Accommodation. The Spinal Cord. The Brain. The Me- 
dulla. The Cerebellum. The Cerebrum. Topography of 
Brain. Cortical Areas. Visual Center. Auditory Center. 
Olfactory Center. Taste Center. Somsesthetic Area. The 

5 



6 CONTENTS 

Motor Centers. Association Areas. Phrenology. The Nerv- 
ous System a Unity. Conditions Influencing Consciousness. 
Relation of Physical and Psychical Processes. 

Pages 22-49 

CHAPTER III 

The Conscious Life 

Characteristics of Consciousness. How Consciousness is De- 
tected. Isolation of Consciousness. Consciousness must 
have Content. Development of Consciousness. Conditions 
of Wakefulness. Fluctuations of Consciousness. Sleep and 
Dreaming. Consciousness and Muscular Change. Sensations 
and Mental Content. Change and Consciousness. The Mind. 
Synthesis Unconscious. Inspiration. Will and Subconscious 
Activity. Dual Character. Unconscious Impressions. De- 
ferred Impressions. Revivable Impressions in Unconscious 
Background. Habit and Unconscious Activity. Unconscious 
Causes of Mental States. Minimum of Consciousness. The 
Explanation. Value of Consciousness. Significance of the 
Subconscious. Consciousness a Positive Factor. 

Pages 50-70 

CHAPTER IV 

Will 

Activity — Will. Consciousness and Will. Varieties of Will. 
Involuntary Attention. Selective Will. Selective Will in 
Thinking. Kinetic Will. Development of Will. Control of 
Voluntary Muscles. Direction of Consciousness: Attention 
and Thinking. Will Defined. Will Analyzed: 1. Idea. 
2. Correlation of Idea and Muscles. 3. Consent or Inhibi- 
tion. 4. Motive. Motive not Apart from Act. Motives 
the Spontaneous Output of Mind. Freedom of Will. Free- 
dom Defined. Limits of Freedom. Determinism. Spheres 
of Interest. Supreme Motive. Means Made the End. Phys- 
ical Motives. Social Motives. Spiritual Motives. Various 
Simultaneous Motives. Irresolution. Suspension or En- 



CONTENTS 7 

feeblement of Will. Aboulia. Explosive Will. Lack of In- 
hibition. Summary. 

Pages 71-91 

CHAPTER V 

Habituation 

Law of Habituation. Physical Law and Habit Contrasted. 
Growth of Habits. Mental Habits. Habituation General. 
Repetition and Habit. Power of Habit. Habits may be 
Changed. Best Method of Getting Rid of Old Habits. Role 
of Habituation. 

Pages 92-97 

CHAPTER VI 

Heredity 

Heredity a Common Fact. Hereditary Transmission of Mental 
QuaUties and Tendencies. Illustrations. Insanity and He- 
redity. Heredity and Evolution. Theories of Heredity. 
Lamarck^s Theory. Darwin's Theory. Weismann's Theory. 
Transmission of Acquired Characters. 

Pages 98-105 

CHAPTER VII 

Impulses and Instincts 

Old View regarding Nature of Instinct. Modern View. Im- 
pulse and Instinct Compared. Instinct in Animals and Man. 
Instinct to Live. Racial Instinct. Subsidiary Instincts. 
Deception. Acquisitiveness. Play. Imitation. Inquisi- 
tiveness. Ethical and Religious Instincts. Social Instinct. 
Consciousness and Instincts. Instinct and Reason. Stimuli 
producing Instinct-Reactions. Untimely and Atavistic In- 
stinct-Reactions. Perverse Instinct. Importance of Instinct. 

Pages 106-117 



8 CONTENTS 

CHAPTER VIII 

Feeling 

Difficulty of Definition. Different Definitions and Views. Na- 
ture of Feeling. The Common View of Feeling. The James- 
Lange Theory. Considerations favoring Discharge Theory. 
Origin of Emotions. Tone of Feehngs. Sensation, Tone, and 
FeeHng Defined. Have all Feelings Tone? Feelings both 
Pleasurable and Painful. Intensity and Tone of Feelings. 
Intensity and Duration of Feelings. Feeling and Associated 
Idea. Bias of Feelings. Teleology of Feelings. Classification 
of Feelings. Sensuous Feelings. Ideational Feehngs. Es- 
thetic Feelings. Personal Feelings. Altruistic Feelings. Mor- 
bid Feelings. Causes of Morbid Feelings 

Pages 118-135 

CHAPTER IX 

Sensation 

Definition. Two Meanings of Sensation. Sensory Neurones and 
their End-Organs. Sensations Classified. Smell. Taste. 
Touch and Temperature. Muscular and Joint-Sensations. 
Sound. Sight. Similarity and Difference. Different Sensa- 
tions Associated. Association Based on Functional Relation- 
ship. SynjBsthesia. Intensity and Quality of Sensations. 
Measurement of Sensations. Personal Element. Weber's 
Law. Interpretations of Weber's Law. Relation of Inten- 
sity and Quality. Intensity and Pleasure-Pain. Intensity of 
Sensation, and Knowledge. Local Signs. Characteristic of 
Sensation. Spatiality and Externality. Volume. Sensations 
Without External Stimuli. How Objects produce Sensation. 

Pages 136-150 

CHAPTER X 

Fusion and Discrimination 

Divisibility of the World. Fusion. Things First Known as 
Wholes. Earliest Experience Undiscriminated. Attention 



CONTENTS 9 

and Discrimination. Discrimination is Analytic. Discrim- 
ination comes with Experience. Variableness of Things Help 
to Discrimination. Experimentation Help to Discrimination. 
Abihty to Discriminate. Instantaneous Discrimination. 
Summary. 

Pages 151-157 

CHAPTER XI 

Perception 

Sensation before Perception. Sensations Experienced in Groups. 
Basis and Meaning of Perception. Attributes of Perceived 
Objects. Origin of Perception of Externality. Complexity 
of Perception. 1. Sensation. 2. Association. 3. Attention. 
4. Interpretation. Illusion and Hallucination. Why one Per- 
ception rather than Another? Anticipation and Suggestion. 
Mood. Fortuity. Importance of Interpretative Process. 
Perceptive Value of Various Senses. Taste and Smell. Hear- 
ing. Localization. Touch. Sight. All Perceptions Illusory. 
Voluntary Illusions. Hallucinations, Proper and Pseudo. 

Pages 158-174 

CHAPTER XII 

Unexplained Mental Phenomena 

Psychic Phenomena. Various Phenomena Explained. Addi- 
tional Principles of Explanation Needed. The Facts. Telep- 
athy not Proved. 

Pages 175-182 

CHAPTER XIII 

Memory 

Memory has Reference to the Past. Organic Memory. Mem- 
ory Proper Defined. 1. Retention. Degrees of Retention. 
Age of Maximum Memory Power. Basis of Retention. 2. 
Recall. Memory-Ideas. Memory as Imagination. Percep- 



10 CONTENTS 

tion and Memory-Images. Recollection Variable. Basis of 
Recollection. Course of Reproduction. Various Explana- 
tions of Course of Ideas. Facts, not Logic, decide the Law. 
" The Facts. The Law of Association. Secondary Elements 
in Association. Sporadic Reproduction. 3. Recognition. 
Pseudo-Recognition. Recognition and Knowing. Capacity 
of Memory. Kinds of Memory. Differences Accounted 
for. Forgetting. Hypermnesia. Memorial Integration 
and the Mythopoeic Tendency. Amnesia. Cultivation of 
Memory. Mnemonics. 

Pages 183-204 

CHAPTER XIV 

Imagination 

Reproductive and Constructive Imagination. Kinds of Images. 
Prominence of some Kinds of Images. Types of Imagina- 
tion. Visual Imagination. Auditory Imagination. Motor 
Imagination. Tactual Imagination. Age, Disease, and Train- 
ing Modifying Factors. 

Pages 205-210 

CHAPTER XV 

Conception 

The Consciousness of Meaning. Conception. Conception De- 
fined. Discrimination in Conception. Conception a Relat- 
ing Activity. Conception an Eliminating and Selective 
Process. Conception a Creative Process. The Concept Uni- 
versal. Conception and Imagination. Realism and Nom- 
inalism. Language Symbolized Conception. Language an 
Aid to Conception. 

Pages 211-215 

CHAPTER XVI 

Thinking 

Distinctive Characteristic of Man. Thinking Defined. Two 
Kinds of Thought-Movement. History of Deduction and 



CONTENTS 11 

Induction. Induction. Induction as Conception. Deduc- 
tion. Deduction Compared with Perception. Deduction a 
Specialization of Concepts. Importance of Deduction. Re- 
lation of Induction and Deduction. Mysticism. Intuition. 
Intuition and Reasoning. 

Pages 216-222 

CHAPTER XVII 

Knowledge 

The Problem of Knowledge. Elements of Knowledge. Knowl- 
edge expresses Relation. Knowledge and Conception. 
Growth of Knowledge. Knowledge Understood. Reality in 
Knowledge and Belief. The Idea of Reality. The Ideas of 
Time and Space. The Idea of Cause and Effect. 

Pages 223-232 

CHAPTER XVIII 

Suggestion 

Contraction and Expansion of Living Cell. Tendency of Sen- 
sory Stimuli to be Converted into Outgoing Impulses. 
Thought and Movement. Imitation. Inhibition. The 
Reality-Feeling. Suspension of Critical Power. How Hyp- 
nosis is Induced. Hypnosis Defined and Described. Sugges- 
tion Defined. Physiological Suggestion. Sensori-Motor Sug- 
gestion. Ideo-Motor Suggestion. Subconscious Suggestion. 
Universality and Importance of Suggestion. Mental Epi- 
demics. 

Pages 233-243 

CHAPTER XIX 

The Self 

Consciousness of Self. Development of Consciousness of Self. 
Interests of Self. The Feeling of Identity. Theories of Self. 
Extensive Observation and Comparison Necessary. The 



12 CONTENTS 

Self Changes. Coenesthesis and Memory. Changed FeeHng 
of Self. Alternating Personality. Example of Alternating 
Personality. Causes of Change of Self. Alternating Per- 
sonahty an Exaggerated Form of Normal Consciousness. 

Pages 244-256 

CHAPTER XX 

Mental Types and Characters 

Varieties of Mind, and Change. Tendency toward a Type. 
Classification of Minds. 1. Nervous Reactions. Tempera- 
ment. 2. Development. Idiots and Cretins. Criminal Type. 
Geniuses. Originality. Cranial Capacity. Precocity. Symp- 
toms of Degeneracy. 3. Mental Health and Equipoise. 
Sanity. Insanity. Insanity and Reason. Forms of Insanity. 

Pages 257-266 



THE MENTAL MAN 

AN OUTLINE OF THE 

Fundamentals of Psychology 

CHAPTER I 

INTRODUCTION 

Interest in Psychology. An unusual interest in psy- 
chology and psychological topics is manifested of late 
years. It is not confined to specialists, but the reading 
and thinking public at large is turning its attention to 
facts and discussions having a direct psychological im- 
port. To be sure, this popular interest appears to be 
greatest with regard to those psychical phenomena that 
are unusual and arouse the sense of the mysterious, and 
those which are thought to have a bearing on man's 
weal and woe. That the science of psychology is ap- 
preciated, however, is evident from the new impetus 
that manifests itself in the establishment and mainte- 
nance of costly laboratories in all the great institutions 
of learning the world over, and the frequenting of these 
by hundreds of students systematically to consider and 
experiment on mental processes. 

Importance of Psychology. More and more the opin- 
ion is becoming prevalent that life in all its manifold 
aspects and departments must be studied at its source; 
that is, all human institutions and social movements, 

13 



14 THE MENTAL MAN 

including the sporadic outbursts of emotion and action, 
are to be explained and directed into better channels 
by conclusions drawn from psychological considerations. 
The world is what it is because of forces that have 
shaped society, the state, religion and morals, art and 
literature, with their various attendant usages and in- 
stitutions. The possibilities of the social world are the 
dynamic elements that now reside in man, and that in 
the past have been factors in civilization. 

It is believed that a systematic study of the mind 
and its various activities will lead to their better under- 
standing and a better knowledge of their significance in 
the everyday affairs, as well as in certain departments 
of science. A vagueness of the facts and a confusion of 
concepts in regard to them mean error in life, annoy- 
ance, misdirection of energies, and often superstition. 
To know one's inner self and that of others, is to know 
man's powers and limitations, and the laws according 
to which the various forms of consciousness and action 
arise. And this gives satisfaction and makes life fuller 
and freer. 

Future of Psychology. Psychology, though one of the 
oldest of sciences, is, in its modern form, still in its in- 
fancy. Although great expectation from psychology 
should not be aroused, lest the impatient student of 
the science turn away in disappointment because of its 
meager positive results, we yet believe that in time to 
come it will do more and more to enlighten and bring a 
wide range of psychic facts under their proper principles. 

Development of Psychology. Psychology has a long 
and interesting history. Its beginnings, like those of 
many other sciences, are to be sought in the early at- 



INTRODUCTION 15 

tempts at philosophy. The explanation of mind and 
matter was simplicity itself. The physical world was 
explained by ascribing to the matter composing it a 
living principle, or soul, and this in turn was explained 
in terms of matter. That is, matter was conceived to 
be a living principle, or spirit, while soul (when they 
came to the problem) was thought to be some refined 
form of matter. When, however, in the course of the 
development of philosophy, attention was directed 
more and more to man himself, and especially to his 
thinking and willing, as in the case of the Sophists, who 
were Athens^ teachers of rhetoric and wisdom about 
400 B. c, there soon arose the beginnings of an inde- 
pendent psychology. It was metaphysical at first; that 
is, it concerned itself with problems about the soul in 
abstract discussions. Then, when psychologists looked 
to consciousness for the facts, it became descriptive. 
Finally psychology completely turned away from meta- 
physical methods and assumptions and became sta- 
tistical and experimental. 

The New Psychology. Psychology was many cen- 
turies old and had yielded so few positive results, es- 
pecially in comparison with the physical sciences, that 
when the change came, the reaction from the meta- 
physical and descriptive methods was complete, and 
the new psychology was to have little in common with 
the old. This in theory; yet in fact a common-sense 
metaphysics or a studied one is found interwoven in 
every psychology, however strenuously its author may 
have declaimed, in the introduction, against the use of 
anything but facts. Experimental psychology rests and 
proceeds upon two broad assumptions, now generally 



16 THE MENTAL MAN 

admitted. Of these the first is that every mental state 
and process is always accompanied by a nervous change 
or process. The second assumption is that this relation 
between mind and body is uniform. A psychology of 
facts alonej therefore, is only possible in the sense that 
Professor Lipps uses the word, when in the introduction 
of his psychology he remarks that ''auch Bedurfnisse 
sind Tatsachen'' — also needs are facts. ^ If chemistry 
makes use of a hypothetical atom in order to explain 
itself at all, then the atom may be regarded as fact. So 
while the difference between the old and the new psy- 
chology is not so great as is sometimes claimed, there is 
yet this great difference, that the new is experimental 
with a minimum of assumptions, while the old contents 
itself with introspection and description of the facts 
observed. 

Psychology Defined. Definitely stated, psychology is 
the science that notes, classifies, and explains the phe- 
nomena of mind. This implies, first, the observation 
of mental states and processes, which are found in 
consciousness, and also the condition under which 
they arise in ourselves and, so far as possible, in others. 
These form the data of the science, which are to be 
classified and explained by referring them to general 
laws. The data are assumed as facts. They cannot be 
proved, neither can they be doubted; for, they are di- 
rectly felt as forms of consciousness and are observed 
to be the accompaniments of consciousness. 

Scope of Psychology. Psychology, in its widest scope, 
includes all mental life, be it that of man, beast, in- 
sect, or the microorganism. What interests us mostly, 
1 Grundtatsachen des Seelenlebens, Bonn, 1883. 



INTRODUCTION 17 

however, is the psychology of our own selves, and 
thus the word psychology is applied to that of human 
beings, unless otherwise specified. It is the province of 
psychology to consider, not only the mental life of the 
normal adult, but also the development of the human 
mind — psychogenesis; the conditions under which men- 
tality takes place — brain and nerve physiology; and the 
possibilities of pathological conditions — psychiatry. 

Mental Pathology in Psychology. It may be objected 
that pathology of the mind belongs elsewhere, just as 
diseases of the body have no place in physiology. Be- 
sides, ''it is not necessary to psychological insight to 
make an anthology of mad-house and hospital stories.'' ^ 
On the other hand, the view is here taken that the con- 
sideration of just those exceptional cases (anomalies) 
and abnormal conditions will give the broadest and 
deepest psychological insight. For, psychology is the 
science of mind, and mind is not a static, rigid entity 
working in strictly fixed grooves, as we shall see later, 
but a potentiality as well as a manifestation that varies 
in degree and kind. There is no absolute, normal mind; 
there is only an approximation, in different individuals 
at different times, to what we may be pleased to call 
normal. The abnormal or pathological is nothing new, 
but an exaggerated form of the common, everyday nor- 
mal condition or form of consciousness. Hence the ab- 
solute necessity for considering the anomalies and ab- 
normalities of the mind, if we are ever to get beyond 
scholastic shallows. Furthermore, the Coleridges, Poes, 
Cowpers, Goldsmiths, Schopenhauers, and hundreds of 
other persons in the world can be understood only in the 

1 Bowne, Introduction to Psychological Theory, New York. 
2 



18 THE MENTAL MAN 

light of pathology. A knowledge of the pronounced pe- 
culiarities will enable one to understand more easily 
those less noticeable; and knowledge of variations from 
the average normal often essentially modifies one's view 
of the normal mind, just as one's concept of water is 
changed by knowing that under certain conditions it 
sohdifies or turns to vapor. 

Aim of Psychology. The aim of psychology is pri- 
marily truth; not a mere enumeration of the mental 
phenomena, but an induction of principles. With our 
practical tendencies we constantly need to remind our- 
selves that the line of progress in any science always 
lies in the direction of the most disinterested purpose 
and devotion to facts. Psychology is no exception 
to the rule, however unique its nature may be in other 
respects. That is not to say that psychology is to be 
moved into such a transcendental sphere as not to have 
some regard for man's natural interests. That would 
be a poor psychology indeed that would not take an 
account of the whole man, interest and all. Now, he 
is interested to know the constitution and nature of 
his own consciousness. He would like to know some- 
thing of the purpose of his existence and his destiny. 
He is attached to hfe, and he desires to know what 
furthers this life. Hence, if psychology is to gain broader 
recognition, the truths that it discovers must have some 
bearing on man's interests. In other words, psychology 
must, if it can, be serviceable to man. 

Methods in Psychology — Introspection. In fulfilling 
the work which has been assigned to psychology, various 
methods need to be employed. The simplest and most 
important is IntrospectioUj or the noting of our own 



INTRODUCTION 19 

mental states as they occur or as we remember them to 
have been. Unless the individual himself has direct 
experience of certain mental facts, he can never under- 
stand them in the least. To know what the sensation 
of blue is hke, or the feeling of dismay, one must have 
a consciousness of them as direct experiences. No de- 
scription is adequate to produce knowledge of a state of 
consciousness; for knowledge in all cases implies direct 
acquaintance with. To be sure, we may have knowl- 
edge about things from mere description, but in this 
case the description is in terms already known to us by 
direct experience. 

Objective Method. While the realization of conscious- 
ness requires personal experience, which can be noted 
by introspection alone, other methods, supplemental to 
it, are necessary to extend our knowledge of the kind 
and intensity of consciousness and of the various cir- 
cumstances under which specific states of consciousness 
arise. The Objective method is the study of other men 
of various types, from the imbecile to the genius; at 
various ages, from earliest infancy to extreme old age; 
with different culture, from the most primitive savage 
of the remotest age to the Goethes and Gladstones of 
today; with different constitutions, from the healthiest 
man down to the physical and mental wreck that is 
relegated to the ward of incurables. History, archaeol- 
ogy, philology, music, literature, art, folklore and su- 
perstition, physiology, psychiatry and criminology are 
interesting fields in which we may gather important facts 
for psychology. 

Comparative Method. The Comparative method is the 
study of animals, their habits, instincts, and thought, 



20 THE MENTAL MAN 

so far as that is possible, for the purpose of helping us 
to put our own mental nature into a clearer light by 
comparison. 

Experimental Method. The Experimental method, a 
form of the objective and comparative methods, is 
the making of observations on man and animals under 
conditions brought about for the express purpose of 
observation. Already experimental psychology — also 
called psycho-physics and physiological psychology — 
is a pretty well defined department of general psychol- 
ogy, for which results are furnished from laboratories 
equipped with all sorts of ingenious apparatus with and 
without names, by which the psycho-physical man is 
accurately determined. 

Differences between Psychology and the Physical 
Sciences. One fact that needs to be emphasized espe- 
cially is the initial difference between psychology and 
the physical sciences. The facts of the physical sciences 
must, for the most part, be imparted to the beginner 
of the study, while every student of psychology fortu- 
nately — in some respects t^nfortunately — is directly, 
though very superficially, acquainted with the great 
facts or data of psychology long before he takes up the 
study of the science. This accounts, at least in part, for 
the feeling often entertained that after all psychology is 
a very meager study. Even psychologists of no mean 
reputation and achievement, such as Wilham James, are 
looking for a Copernican discovery that will revolu- 
tionize psychology and direct its devotees, in their re- 
searches, into the bright highway of truth, instead of 
leaving them to grope about in obscure byways. How- 
ever, we do not expect it ever to be made, simply be- 



INTRODUCTION 21 

cause the great facts of consciousness are most familiar 
to every developed person, and because in mind, in 
consciousness, we have what is for us an ultimate reality, 
and is not to be classed among appearances merely, as 
are the phenomena of astronomy. The truth is that the 
facts of psychology as presented in consciousness are so 
fundamental that even a definition is exceedingly diffi- 
cult, if not impossible. The most that we may expect 
to attain is a wider acquaintance with the facts of mind, 
and a fuller understanding of the principles involved. 

Although psychology is concerned about the facts of 
mind, or consciousness, it is, nevertheless, necessary, to 
consider also some facts of physiology, because of the 
intimate relation of consciousness and the body. 



CHAPTER II 
THE PHYSICAL BASIS 

Mind in Body. In the common acceptation of the word, 
man is body and mind. By body is meant the organ- 
ism having weight and extension, and possessing other 
properties perceptible through the senses. By mind, on 
the other hand, is meant the consciousness, the think- 
ing, the feehng, striving, and directing of one's own ener- 
gies. Consciousness, or mind, which is the subject of 
our study, is only known in connection with an organ- 
ized and functioning body. In other words, conscious- 
ness is only experienced in connection with life. 

What is Life? What life is, cannot be explained 
easily ; in fact, ultimately considered, that is a profound 
mystery. We know only the phenomena of life, or at 
best, in ourselves we experience life. However, we can 
note the conditions necessary to life. Herbert Spencer 
has said that life is the ^'continuous adjustment of in- 
ternal relations to external relations. '^ As long as the 
plant or animal keeps up the processes essential to nu- 
trition and the maintenance of its internal and external 
structure, it lives. Let these activities cease and death 
ensues. The plant lives so long as it is able to draw 
food from the ground and air, to convey it to the va- 
rious parts for use, and to throw off waste and super- 
fluous substances. The animal (supposing it to be one 
of the higher order) lives so long as it can take nourish- 

22 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 23 

ment, and there continues the circulation of the blood, 
breathing, etc. When these processes cease, the or- 
ganism, although still possessing the same constituent 
elements of matter, has lost that intangible factor which 
is called life. 

Protoplasm and the Cell. Every living organism be- 
gins as a minute globule, or cell of matter, called pro- 
toplasm. Protoplasm is sensitive, i. e., it responds to 
stimuli, and possesses the power of spontaneous move- 
ment. It grows by increasing its volume from within, 
or intussusception, and reproduces itself by dividing 
into parts. Protoplasm is one of the most complex sub- 
stances, and is found only in such minute quantities as 
to require the microscope to detect it. The cell, within 
which protoplasm is found and which is the smallest 
unit of life, varies both as to form and size. The 
spherical form is common to the cell, yet many other 
forms prevail. An animal cell measures from nine tenths 
of a micron to several centimeters in diameter. 

A cell may maintain a separate existence, such as the 
amoeba, the yeast cell, and the white blood corpuscle. 
Or cells may be of such a character and so arranged as 
to form a system, as found in the case of the human 
body. 

Irritableness of the Cell. The cells with which hu- 
man life begins, have the power of organizing othei 
substances about them and of producing other celk 
The result is a highly complex organism, embodying a 
countless number of cells and capable of various ac- 
tivities. Each cell responds to any stimulus in its own 
way uniformly, be the stimulus in the nature of light, 
^ound, or heat-vibrations, a chemical reaction, me- 



24 THE MENTAL MAN 

chanical contact, or an electrical current. The gland- 
cells respond by an act of secretion, the muscle-cells 
by contracting, and the sensory nerve-cells by arousing 
some sort of sensation. 

Of the various activities in the body, consciousness 
is the most significant. Though the whole of the bod)^ 
stands in relation to the mental phenomena, that por- 
tion that concerns us in psychology particularly is the 
nervous system, because consciousness depends directly 
on nerve-substance. 

The Nervous System and the Neurone. The nervous 
system is composed of nerve-cells and a supporting or 
connective tissue, called neuroglia, besides blood-vessels 
and lymphatics. A nerve-cell with all its fibrous pro- 
longations, or so-called processes, constitutes the nerve- 
element, or functional unit of the nervous system, called 
the neurone, _ 

Two Kinds of Neurones. Although there are two 
types of neurones as to form, and although neurones 
differ in size and form, according to their location and 
office in the nervous system, we may describe them as 
consisting each of a cell-body and two kinds of cell- 
processes. The one kind is short and divided into many 
little branches, like those of a tree; these processes are 
called dendrites. Dendrites are protoplasmic the same 
as the cell. The others — the axis-cylinder processes — 
are generally much longer than the dendrites, present 
fewer branches, and are usually sheathed in a medullary 
covering. (See Figure 1.) It is the function of the 
dendrites to transmit impulses to the cell-body, i. e., 
they are afferent ; and that of the axis-cylinder process 
to carry impulses from the cell-body, i. e., it is efferent 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 



25 



Nerve cell.... 



Naked 
cxis-cylinder 




Dendrites 



Terminal 
branches 



Fig. 1 
Diagram of a Neurone 



26 THE MENTAL MAN 

as regards the cell-body. However, when there are 
two axis-cylinders emanating from a cell, one of them 
may be afferent and the other efferent. An axis- 
cylinder process is often called a neuraxone, or simply 
axone. 

Neurones Separate but Related. Each neurone is 
separate in structure, as has been demonstrated by em- 
bryology and pathology, and later confirmed by results 
obtained from improved methods of staining nerve- 
tissue preparatory to microscopic examination. In or- 
der that an impulse may pass from one neurone to an- 
other, it is sufficient that they be contiguous, though it 
be only through their branches, and it is thus that 
the neurones of the human body, estimated at eleven 
thousand millions, are interrelated and form an organic 
unity — ^the nervous system. 

Neurone Activity. Very little is known of what ac- 
tually goes on within the neurone.^ However, as it is 
so delicately constituted and exceedingly impression- 
able, or sensitive, we may believe that it is never entirely 
at rest, even in sleep. Continually and without repose 
alterations in chemical structure are taking place in the 
nervous system. Ever and without interruption many 
stimuli, internal and external to the body, are affecting 
both the sensory and the motor neurones unconsciously. 
Only the dead neurone is in absolute repose. Yet there 
are moments of extraordinary activity, which arouses 
consciousness. When we are experiencing sensations, 
or when we are in the act of willing, or carrying on 
thought-processes, then the appropriate neurones are 
greatly excited; then there occurs, ''as it were, a stormy 

1 See footnote, p. 150* 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 27 

process in the nerve-fiber/^ as Barker puts it.^ An ac- 
tivity within any neurone sets up a definite action in 
every other neurone with which it is arborized, and these 
in turn exercise a hke influence upon their neighbor- 
neurones. Thus a wave of influence, called nerve- 
impulse, passes over the entire nervous system. While 
we may not be conscious of it, it is, nevertheless, actu- 
ally true that we cannot view an object, for example, 
without a wave of influence reaching our fingertips. 

Five Classes of Neurones — First Class. In describing 
the functions of the neurones, we may group them into 
five great classes.^ The first class includes the sensory 
neurones of the first order. The cell-bodies of these, as 
well as their dendrites, lie outside of the central nervous 
system (brain and spinal cord). Their function is to 
connect the sense-organs with the central nervous 
system, and through their collaterals with the lower 
motor centers. Through these peripheral neurones the 
central nervous system is affected by changes taking 
place in and concerning the body itself, and by physical 
and chemical stimuli, originating in the world external 
to the body. 

Second Class. The second class of neurones Hes within 
the central nervous system, and connects the end- 
stations of the axones of the sensory neurones belonging 
to the first order with other parts of the central nerv- 
ous system, and connects these with still higher por- 
tions of the central system. This class of neurones in- 
cludes the sensory neurones of the second and of higher 
orders. 

1 The Nervous System, New York, 1899, p. 250. 

2 After Prof. L. F. Barker, op. cit. 



28 THE MENTAL MAN 

Third Class. The third class of neurones connects 
the central nervous system with the voluntary muscles 
of the body. The neurones comprising this class are 
the lower motor neurones, and are designated periph- 
eral, yet their dendrites and cell-bodies He within the 
central system, while outside it are their sheathed 
axones, which constitute the fibers of the peripheral 
motor nerves. 

Fourth Class. The fourth class of neurones includes 
the intermediary and upper motor neurones, lying within 
the central system. They connect with the lower motor 
neurones and bring these into relation with other cen- 
ters. 

Fifth Class. The fifth class includes the projection, 
commissural, and association neurones of the telenceph- 
alon, or end-brain (which is the cerebrum without the 
inter-brain). The projection neurones connect the cor- 
tex of the telencephalon with lower portions of the ner- 
vous system. The cell-bodies may be in the cortex, 
with the axones passing to the lower centers, or vice 
versa. Thus the upper motor neurones of the fourth 
class are projection neurones. The commissural neu- 
rones are the neurones whose cell-bodies are located in 
one hemisphere of the telencephalon, while their axones 
are distributed in the cortex of the opposite hemi- 
sphere, except in cases of bifurcation, or division of the 
axones, when one branch of any axone is distributed 
in one hemisphere and the second branch in the 
other hemisphere. The association neurones are those 
connecting the various portions of the same hemi- 
sphere. 

Summary of Functions of Neurones. We see, then^ 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 29 

that there are neurones (sensory neurones of the first and 
second orders), the office of which is to conduct sensory- 
impulses to the lower and higher nerve-centers (including 
the cortex of the cerebrum) ; neurones that bind together, 
associate, or unify the hemispheres and the parts of 
the same hemisphere (neurones of the fifth class) ; and 
neurones that conduct motor impulses from the higher 
and lower nerve-centers to the muscles of the body 
(neurones of the third and fourth classes). To make 
this plainer, let us consider briefly the relations of some 
of the principal neurones, and the course of the impulses 
which they transmit. 

Course of Impulses. Any sensory impression, as of 
touch, or temperature, is taken up by the dendrites of 
the appropriate sensory neurones and is transmitted to 
the cell-body, thence ascends the axone. Now the axone 
branches off in collaterals, some of which enter into 
relation with lower motor cells directly and some in- 
directly. The sensory impulse is, therefore, transmitted 
to these lower motor cells. But, at the same time, the 
main branch of the axone, called the axis-cylinder, car- 
ries the sensory impulses into the medulla oblongata, and 
there its end arborizes around a cell, the axis-cylinder 
of which in the form of a fiber transmits the impulse to 
neurones in the cerebrum. It is probably here that the 
sensory stimulus is diffused or redirected by means of 
the commissural and association neurones. Expressed 
in psychic terms, the stimuli entering the cerebrum may 
arouse conscious sensation, perception, comparison, and 
thought. If the stimulus, however, is of such an in- 
tensity or nature as to have special interest for con- 
sciousness so that there is an augmentation in the brain- 



30 THE MENTAL MAN 

centers, then there results, as it were, an overflow, and 
motor waves run out to various parts, thus effecting a 
general emotion or an indefinite movement, or both. Or 
incoming impulses reaching a center that is already in 
action may so modify the activity existing there, that 
the latter is either depressed and inhibited or exalted 
and augmented. From here the impulse is carried by 
the axis-cylinder process to the pyramid-cell in the cor- 
tex of the cerebrum. The impulse is here passed down 
its axis-cylinder to the lower motor centers in the spinal 
cord, which transmit it to the end-plates of the muscle- 
fibers. The student will do well to study carefully the 
diagram given as Figure 2. 

Reflexes. It is clear from this that the spinal cord 
is a reflex center. The sensory impressions that are 
conducted to the lower motor neurones by the col- 
laterals of the sensory neurones, instead of passing to 
the seat of consciousness, are immediately discharged 
as motor impulses. In other words, reflex action 
occurs. 

While the so-called involuntary muscles act reflex- 
ively, all the voluntary muscles may also contract in- 
voluntarily, i. e., reflexively, in disease and certain forms 
of intoxication. Extensive incoordinate reflexes may 
occur under the influence of a very strong stimulus, 
such as pain, or when the gray matter of the spinal 
cord is in a condition of excessive excitability, pro- 
duced, e. g., by certain drugs, as nicotin, caffein, car- 
bolic acid, and atropin, and notably strychnin, which 
is the most powerful poison known to produce re- 
flexes. 

Extensive coordinated reflexes may be seen in aU the 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 



31 



more or less complicated movements, such as reading, 
walking, and playing a musical instrument, occurring 



Cortex cerebri 



f^ramid ceU 



Cerebellum. 




Spinal ganglion 



5Pl't< Sensory 
\^^i surface 



End plate on a 
muscle fiber 



Fig. 2 



Diagram showing the probable relations of some of the principal 
cells of the cerebro-spinal system to one another 

without a consciousness of the details or meaning of 
these acts. A decapitated frog will use his right foot to 



32 THE MENTAL MAN 

rub off a drop of acid applied to his skin, and if the 
right foot be cut off and the movements of the stump 
are of no avail, the left foot will be used. 

Reaction-Time. The time it takes the sensory nerves 
to transmit a stimulus to a nerve-center, there to be 
converted into a motor impulse, and then to be dis- 
charged by way of the motor nerves in some muscular 
act, is called the reaction-time. Helmholtz was the first 
to experiment on sensory reactions. 

Reaction-Experiments. The instrument used for 
measuring reaction-time is usually a chronoscopic clock, 
which records durations as small as one thousandth of a 
second. A person sits at a table with his finger on an 
electric key. He is told to press down the key at a 
given sensory signal : it may be a sound, a light, or a touch. 
Whatever the signal, it must be so arranged that this 
signal is the immediate cause of starting the chrono- 
scope instantaneously, while pressure on the electric 
key instantaneously stops the machine. The interval, 
therefore, between the signal, which starts the chrono- 
scope, and the pressure on the key, which stops it, is 
the reaction-time. 

Results. Numerous experiments in reaction-time 
have disclosed interesting results. It has been found 
that the time for ordinary sensory reaction averages 
about 23 hundredths of a second, while it is only 123 
thousandths of a second, if the subject holds himself 
prepared to act at the given signal. It has also been 
found that reaction-time differs with individuals. It 
takes longer for children and old and uncultivated per- 
sons to react. Practice and intense attention shorten the 
time, while fatigue has the opposite tendency. The 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 33 

» 

nature of the signal also makes a difference. Reaction- 
time for sound is shortest; then touch; and longest for 
light. 

Growth and Degeneration of Neurones. The health, 
nutrition, and development of the neurone depend to a 
considerable degree upon its activities. Disuse brings 
on degeneration and atrophy. In the vertebrates hav- 
ing undeveloped anterior and posterior extremities, 
there is found a corresponding condition in the nerve- 
trunks and spinal roots. Amputation of a limb brings 
on a degeneration in the nerves that are thereby thrown 
into comparative inactivity. Furthermore, it is be- 
lieved by some that the proper activity of some neu- 
rones, especially the cortical neurones of the cerebrum, 
stimulates the growth of additional dendrites, if not of 
new axones and entire neurones. This may explain the 
marked difference between the cerebrum of the un- 
tutored and that of the highly educated person. It has 
been thought that cerebral development manifests it- 
self in the brain-convolutions, which seem to bear a 
close relation to the mental powers of an individual, as 
would be indicated by the appearance of the brains of 
the different orders of the mammalia. In support of 
this view it is pointed out that in some of the lower 
orders the convolutions are absent altogether, but that 
as we ascend the scale, they increase in number, extent, 
and depth, until in the educated man they are greatest, 
besides presenting the most complex arrangement. In 
the child the convolutions are simple and with scarce 
^ny undulations, but with the growth of his mental 
powers and use of his mind, these undergo change. 
Again, when in old age the mind has lost its vigor, the 
3 



34 THE MENTAL MAN 

convolutions have been thought to present a less marked 
appearance. 

Anatomy of Nervous System. The neurones in their 
groupings present themselves to the anatomist as the 
cerebro-spinal system (brain, spinal cord, cerebral and 
spinal nerves), ganglia of the sympathetic system and 
its nerves, and, in part, the external sense-organs. 

Nerve-Endings. The sensory nerve-endings are of 
several types, found under the skin, mucous membrane, 
cornea, in the tongue, nose, eyeballs, and ears. The 
nerve-endings for touch are corpuscles, usually de- 
scribed as spherical end-bulbs, which seem to consist 
of a cell or cells within a coil of nerve-dendrites, or con- 
sist of disks connected by fibrils within a bulb. 

Organ of Smell. The nerve-endings of the organ of 
smell are found in the upper part of the nasal passage, 
and consist of distinct neurones, the so-called olfactory 
cells. The cell-bodies are deeply imbedded in the epi- 
thelium of the mucous membrane. The dendritic pro- 
longations of the cells extend through the epithelial 
layer, accessible to odorous substances, while the axones 
pass inward, where they arborize with sensory nerves in 
the olfactory bulb. 

Organ of Taste. The taste-organs, located within 
the mouth, are the so-called taste-buds. They are 
spindle-shaped cells of epithehal structure, well adapted 
to absorption of liquid. Spread about these cells within 
the taste-buds are the dendritic fibers of the gustatory 
nerve. It is readily seen, therefore, that the substance 
absorbed within the taste-buds directly stimulates the 
gustatory nerve. 

Organ of Hearing. The ear is the end-organ of hear- 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 35 

ing, and consists of the external, middle (tympanum), 
and inner ear (labyrinth). The outer ear of many an- 
imals assists in the collecting of sound-waves, yet it is 
questionable whether it serves any such purpose in the 
case of man. The tympanum is located back of the 
drum-membrane within the temporal bone. It connects 
with the pharynx by the Eustachian tube. Within the 
tympanum are found the auditory ossicles — three small 
bones, called the hammer, anvil, and stirrup. The 
function of these bones is to transmit sound-vibrations 
from the tympanic membrane to the oval foramen. 

Labyrinth. The labyrinth consists of chambers and 
passages within the temporal bone back of the tym- 
panum, and is called the bony labyrinth. The cham- 
bers and passages are described as the vestibule, the 
semicircular canals, and the cochlea. Within the bony 
labyrinth lies the membranous labyrinth. The latter 
is filled with a liquid, called endolymph, while the space 
between the bony and membranous labyrinths is filled 
with the perilymph. The membranous cochlea con- 
tains the so-called organ of Corti. This consists of a 
membrane to which are attached two rows of stiff 
rods, numbering 6,000 and 4,500, respectively called the 
inner and outer rods, or pillars of Corti ; also one row of 
about 3,500 inner, and four rows of about 12,000 outer 
hair-cells. Among the hair-cells are the beginnings of 
nerve-fibers, which receive from the hair-cells the sound- 
stimuli and conduct them; their continuations consti- 
tute the cochlear portion of the auditory nerve. The 
vestibule and semicircular canals are also provided with 
nerves, which are stimulated by pressure of the en- 
dolymph as it flows in different directions opposite 



36 



THE MENTAL MAN 



to the movements of the head or body. The nerve- 
impulses arising here are carried along the vestibular 
branch of the auditory nerve, yet they have nothing to 
do with hearing, but are concerned in the maintenance 
of equilibrium. 

Organ of Sight. The eye is the organ of sight. It is 
spherical in form, and embodies a number of features so 



Conj 



---Sclerotic coal 




nerve 



Fig. 3 
1. Cornea— 2. Aqueous Humor — 3. Iris— 4. Hyaloid Membrane 

adapted to vision as to make it a most marvelous prod- 
uct of nature. The outer part of the eyeball is a strong 
membrane, the front portion of which, called the cornea, 
is transparent, while the rest, called the sclera, is white 
in color. (See Figure 3.) Underneath the sclera lies 
another coat, called the choroid, which is abundantly 
supplied with blood-vessels and presents internally a 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 37 

brownish-black appearance. The choroid has an open- 
ing directly back of the cornea, called the pupil, which, 
by virtue of the contracting and expanding character 
of the surrounding region, is decreased or enlarged re- 
spectively by the circular and radial muscles. Directly 
back of the pupil and iris is the crystalline lens. The 
space between the cornea and lens is filled with the 
aqueous humor, while the space back of the lens is filled 
with a jelly-like substance, called the vitreous humor. 
The aqueous and vitreous humors and the lens are 
transparent and possess refractive power; especially does 
the lens possess the latter quality. 

Retina. Spreading over the rear and sides of the 
eyeball, next to the choroid, is the retina, made up of 
several layers. The outer layer, next to the choroid, 
consists of black pigment cells. Then comes a layer 
consisting of a supporting, or connecting tissue (epi- 
thelium) and epithelial cells, sensitive to light. These 
sensitive cells are the so-called rods and cones, and are 
really neurones consisting of an afferent fiber, the cell- 
body, and the axone. It is to be noted that the afferent 
members are turned away from the light. Their axones 
arborize with another set of neurones, and these with 
a third set, the axone-fibers of which pass along next to 
the vitreous humor and then backward into the optic 
nerve. (See Figure 4.) The point where these fibers 
join and enter the optic nerve is not susceptible to 
light, and is known as the blind spot. The sensibility 
of the other parts of the retina differs. The nearer 
the retinal surface is to the front of the eye the less the 
sensibility. The point of greatest sensibility is at the 
fovea, a little depression in the retinal surface near 



38 



THE MENTAL MAN 



the blind spot, where the cones are not covered by the 
other layers. 

Accommodation. A large part of the eye serves to 
obtain a distinct image of objects outside upon the 
retina, just as the most important devices of the photo- 
graphic camera serve to bring a clear image upon the 

..^ ^^'^""^"^ ^"^^" membrane 



(Cones 




Limiting 
membrane 



Tir. Pigment 
layer 



Choroid sclera 
Fig. 4 
Diagram of Essential Structure of the Retina 

sensitive plate. Distinct vision depends on a distinct 
image upon the retina. The light-rays coming through 
the cornea and pupil must be focused, which is done by 
the cornea, the humors, and the lens. But in order 
that the image thrown upon the retina may be distinct, 
whether the object is near or far, there must be accom- 
modation of the lens and pupil. When the eye is at 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 39 

rest the lens is in a flattened condition, and the image of 
an object 6 m. or farther away will be focused upon the 
retina. If, however, the object is brought nearer to the 
eye, the focal distance is lengthened, i. e., a clear image 
is only possible at some point back of the retina. There- 
fore, in order that a clear image may fall upon the 
retina, there must occur an accommodation of the lens. 
This is brought about by the interaction of the ciliary 
muscles and the elasticity of the lens. The lens in itself 
tends to assume a more convex, or spherical form, yet 
when the ciliary muscles are at rest, it is ever drawn 
out laterally and thus flattened by the elasticity of the 
choroid coat and the tendons, known as the suspensory 
ligaments, that hold the lens in place. It is through 
the action of the ciliary muscles that the suspensory 
ligaments relax and permit the lens to spring into a 
more spherical form. Simultaneously the pupil also is 
contracted by the circular muscles of the iris, so as to 
exclude all rays of light except those falling upon the 
center of the lens. It is by these adjustments that a 
distinct image may be thrown upon the retina, be the 
object near or far. 

The Spinal Cord. The spinal cord consists of many 
nerve-cells and nerve-fibers^ the principal function of 
which is the carrying out of reflex actions and the trans- 
mitting of sensory and motor impulses. The exact lo- 
cations of about twenty-eight reflex centers have been 
fixed in the spinal cord. 

The Brain. The brain, or encephalon, is the organ 
where consciousness occurs. It constitutes about 1/45 
of a man^s weight. On account of its extreme sensitive- 
ness and importance^ it is exceedingly well protected. 



40 THE MENTAL MAN 

We may distinguish in the encephalon, the cerebrum or 
upper brain, the cerebellum, the pons Varolii, and the 
medulla oblongata. 

The Medulla. The medulla oblongata, also called the 
bulb, is an enlarged continuation of the spinal cord 
within the cranium, and may be regarded as the link 
between the brain and the spinal cord. In it are found 
the larger number of the centers of different organic 
functions, such as the respiratory center, which controls 
breathing; the vaso-motor center, which governs the 
contraction of arteries; the center of deglutition, attend- 
ing to the muscles of the esophagus in swallowing; and 
the cardio-inhibitory center, which regulates heart- 
action. Probably the medulla oblongata also contains 
the primary coordinating centers regulating the muscles 
of articulate speech. In so-called Bulbar Paralysis, 
various disturbances of speech appear, as well as an 
enfeeblement and degeneration of the parts employed 
in speech, such as the tongue, lips, and the muscles of 
the vocal cords. 

The Cerebellum. The cerebellum is the organ that 
coordinates muscular movements without consciousness 
either of incoming stimuli, or of outgoing motor impulses. 
This coordination, brought about especially by afferent 
stimuli from the semicircular canals and the vestibular 
nerve of the ears and from the sensory nerves in muscles, 
joints, and tendons, serves principally to maintain equi- 
librium of the body. Destruction of various centers in 
the cerebellum is attended with distinct disturbances 
of bodily equihbrium, such as a tendency to fall forward 
or backward, to this or the other side. 

The Cerebrum, The cerebrum is divided into a right 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 



41 



and a left hemisphere by the great longitudinal fissure. 
The cortex, or outer portion, is enlarged by numerous 
convolutions, which are separated by depressions, the 
sides and bottom of which, as well as the outer surface of 
the convolutions, are composed of gray matter, called 
the cortical substance. 

Central sulcus 
of Rolando-"^ 



Parieto- 
occipital 
fissure 



Occipital 
lobe-' 




^'^^Fissure of 
-^^. \Ti Sylvius 



Fig. 5 

Convolutions, Fissures, and Sulci of the Cerebral Hemisphere 

(Convex Surface) 

Topography of Brain. For purposes of description 
each hemisphere of the cerebrum has been divided into 
five sections or lobes. There is the frontal lobe, extend- 
ing back to the central sulcus of Rolando; the temporal 
lobe, lying below the fissure of Sylvius; the parietal lobe, 
situated back of the central sulcus of Rolando and partly 
above the fissure of Sylvius; the occipital lobe, below 
the parieto-occipital fissure, constituting the extreme 



42 THE MENTAL MAN 

posterior portion of the cerebrum; and the central lobe, 
or the Island of Reil, found deep in the fissure of Syl- 
vius. (See Figure 5.) 

Cortical Areas. The neurones that constitute the cer- 
ebrum are grouped according to their function, so that 
certain areas of the cortex represent definite functions. 
There are sensory, motor, and association areas, or cen- 
ters. They have been determined by long and painstak- 
ing experiment and observation. The brains of animals 
and men have been studied in different stages of develop- 
ment, and the course of many nerve-fibers has been 
traced. The experiments have been confined almost ex- 
clusively to animals, notably anthropoid apes, which re- 
semble man most closely. Exposed brain-areas of these 
animals have been electrically stimulated and the results 
carefully noted. For example, if the motor area gov- 
erning the muscles of the face or arms be stimulated, 
there results contraction of the corresponding muscles. 
Observations on man have been chnical for the most 
part. Injuries to or lesions in different portions of the 
brain have been found accompanied by definite mental 
disturbances. For example, a young man, who on two 
different occasions had, by falling, hurt his head in the 
same place, from which he never recovered entirely un- 
til he was operated upon (trephined). A portion of the 
brain was exposed, and there a vascular tumor was 
found and removed without any apparent injury to the 
brain. The patient recovered in ten days, but it was 
found that he had temporarily lost the power to co- 
ordinate and accurately to direct the movements of the 
right arm, including fingers, from the elbow down. When 
he closed his eyes, he was unable to tell what positions 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 



43 



were given to his arm and fingers. These parts, hovv^ever, 
still yielded sensations of touch and temperature. The 
position of the cortex injured was about two inches be- 
hind the central sulcus of Rolando and about an inch 
and a half to the left of the median line.^ 



Posterior 
association 
center 




Frontal 

association 

-area 



Fig. 6 
m — Motor Neurones 
s — General Sensory Neurones 
a — Auditory Neurones 
V — Visual Neurones 
o — Olfactory Neurones 

Visual Center. The visual center has been found lo- 
cated in the occipital lobes. (See Figure 6.) If this area 
on both hemispheres be diseased or destroyed, the pa- 
tient can no longer understand objects reported to the 
brain in optical terms (mind blindness, in case the con- 

1 Reported by Prof. M. Allen Starr, Psychological Review y II, 
p. 33 ff . 



44 THE MENTAL MAN 

vex surface of the hemispheres is affected), or he has 
lost the power to perceive optic stimuli (in case the 
cuneus, a lobule on the median surface of the cerebrum, 
is affected) : while mere pressure upon the visual area, as 
by cysts, may produce various subjective images. 

Auditory Center. The auditory sense-area is located 
in the upper part of the temporal lobe, called Wernicke's 
convolution. If this area is destroyed in both hemi- 
spheres, the patient loses entirely the power to hear and 
understand spoken words. This condition is known as 
word-deafness. A person suffering from word-deafness 
can, however, understand thoughts expressed in writ- 
ing, just as the mentally blind understand spoken words, 
but not written ones. 

Olfactory Center. The olfactory area is probably in 
the lobes at the base of the fore-brain, a part of the rhi- 
nencephalon. These are most prominently developed in 
the animals possessing the keenest sense of smell. It has 
also been found that pressure upon this area arouses sen- 
sations of smell. 

Taste Center. Almost nothing is known of the taste- 
area. It is thought to lie immediately back of the ol- 
factory center. 

Somaesthetic Area. The general sensory, or somses- 
thetic area extends from the central sulcus of Rolando 
toward the parietal lobe. It includes also part of the 
mesial surface of the hemisphere. This is the center of 
all sensory impressions relating to the body, including 
the processes that occur in connection with emotions, as 
is indicated a little farther on (Association Centers). 
Disease of this area produces disturbance of tactile and 
kinsesthetic sensations. The patient loses the power to 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 45 

recognize objects by touch and to know the movements 
and position of Umbs and mouth, as well as to form 
images of movement and position. 

The Motor Centers. It has been determined that on 
the fore side of the central sulcus (gyrus centralis an- 
terior) chiefly Hes the motor region, from which proceed 
the impulses that pass to the pons, medulla, and spinal 
cord, which effect the final discharge, causing muscular 
contractions. If, for instance, a portion of a monkey's 
skull be removed, and the cortex of the motor region 
irritated with an electric current at different points, 
different muscles of the body will be affected. Physiol- 
ogists have generally held that the center that governs 
the muscles employed in speech, viz., of the tongue, 
mouth, and the larynx, is located in the lowest frontal 
gyrus, called Broca's convolution, of the left hemisphere 
in the case of right-handed persons, and of the right 
hemisphere in the case of left-handed ones. A lesion or 
injury in Broca's convolution results in loss of power to 
use speech properly.^ This disturbance is called motor 
aphasia, or aphemia. 

Immediately above the center governing the move- 
ments of the mouth and larynx, he those of face, thumb, 
fingers, neck, eyes, wrist and elbows, shoulder, hip, knee 
and ankle, trunk, and toes. Lesion in these centers pro- 
duces paralysis. 

Association Areas. Finally, there are to be men- 
tioned the association centers, which contain the end- 
stations of the neurones connecting the various portions 
of the same hemisphere. There is the anterior associa- 

1 Of late this has been doubted and the whole matter of localiza- 
tion of aphasia has been reopened for discussion. 



46 THE MENTAL MAN 

tion center, located in the fore-brain, and the posterior 
association center, lying directly back of the motor 
areas. These centers take up about two thirds of the 
cortical area and are, according to Professor Flechsig, 
concerned in the higher mental processes of memory, 
recognition, judgment, and reflection. The posterior is 
concerned in the formation of ideas about the outer 
world, while the anterior center is connected with the 
somsesthetic area (including the motor region), in which 
area are impressed all the conscious bodily experiences, 
both passive and voluntary. When the latter center is 
diseased, the person's estimate of himself and interest in 
the external world may suffer changes, as certainly de- 
cided changes in his character appear. In some cases 
there is over-appreciation of self to the extent of un- 
bounded egotism, while in others it is self-depreciation. 
The patient loses the power of judgment in matters of 
right and wrong conduct and in matters of taste. When 
disease affects the posterior large association center, the 
patient's knowledge of the external world becomes de- 
fective. Although retaining self-possession and self- 
knowledge, the patient does not recognize objects, and 
he is not able to name them nor to designate their use.^ 

Phrenology. Beyond this scientists can say little 
with certainty of localization of brain-functions. At any 
rate, the profusely differentiated brain-functions of phre- 
nology appear in the light of modern science as un- 
founded and absurdly unscientific. 

The Nervous System a Unity. While localization of 
functions may be regarded as an established fact, it must 
not be forgotten, on the other hand, that not only the 
1 Cf . Barker's The Nervous System^ New York, 1899. 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS 47 

cerebrum, but also the entire nervous system is an or- 
ganic whole, or unity, and not a mere collection of sep- 
arate and isolated neurones and organs, each function- 
ing all by itself and independently of the rest. So 
thoroughly are the parts related to each other that a 
functioning of any one of them acts and reacts upon all 
the rest; so much so that often the secondary effects upon 
a particular structure are more marked than its own di- 
rect action. 

Conditions Influencing Consciousness. These, in brief, 
are the facts of the physical basis on which consciousness 
or mind rests. So well known is the fact of a basis for 
mentality in common life, that, far as the two are apart 
in reality, ''head'' and "brain'' have all but become 
synonymous with ''mind." A well-developed brain and 
good health mean mental power and equipoise. The 
amount of cortical substance is commensurate with the 
intellectual power of an individual. Retardation of 
brain-development means idiocy. While the average 
weight of the encephalon in a normal adult male is 1,403 
grams, the brain of an idiot seldom weighs more than 652 
grams. Inadequate brain-nourishment, faulty metabo- 
hsm (tisssue change), improper circulation of the blood, 
jars, pressures on and lesions of the brain, excessive excite- 
ment and strains — each one of these interferes with the 
highest, normal course of consciousness. Our mood or 
disposition from day to day, as is well known, is depend- 
ent on health, sleep, work, air, and diet. The effects of 
certain drugs upon consciousness are well understood. 
Opium produces its own peculiar intoxication. Nar- 
cotics of various forms and taken in varying doses, may 
produce stupor, sleep, coma, or unconsciousness, and 



48 THE MENTAL MAN 

paralysis. Nitrous oxide, when inhaled, causes exhilara- 
tion and laughing, while the ordinary anaesthetics (chlo- 
roform and ether) bring on complete unconsciousness. 
The effects of alcohol are paralytic phenomena, both 
physical and mental.^ The critical power is first weak- 
ened and with it inhibition, or self-restraint and control. 
As control of thought and action wanes, emotional im- 
pulses take possession of the man. In his consequent 
carelessness and open-heartedness, he reveals his true na- 
ture. His inmost secrets are flaunted to the winds. 
Benumbed of all pain and anxiety, he feels the whole 
world is his. 

Relation of Physical and Psychical Processes. While 
it is impossible to observe what is going on in the ner- 
vous system, yet from all that is known, it is an unavoid- 
able inference, that for every psychical process there is 
some peculiar neurone-activity in the brain. In fact, 
as already stated, that is one of the assumptions on 
which scientific psychology proceeds, and which the re- 
sults amply illustrate. Experiment shows that atten- 
tion of the simplest kind is accompanied by marked 
changes of respiration, pulse, and muscles. Various ex- 
periments show that during mental activity there is a 
larger quantity of blood in the brain than during men- 
tal repose. The simplest experiment is the following: 
A person is placed on a very delicately balanced table. 
Now when the mind of the subject becomes more ac- 
tive, either emotionally or intellectually, the end where 
the head rests will tip down in consequence of the in- 
creased flow of blood into the brain. Furthermore, it 
has been experimentally established that the rush of 

1 G. Bunge. 



THE PPIYSICAL BASIS 49 

blood is particularly to the spot that functionally cor- 
responds to the psychic act that is then going on, to 
convey to it a greater quantity of nutriment. The brain- 
cells appropriate these substances for future use. Dur- 
ing mental activity brain-tissue decomposes, but just 
how states of consciousness are connected with decom- 
position of tissue is not known, although there is no 
doubt of the fact that such a decomposition occurs in 
the active brain-neurones in connection with definite 
psychic activity, as may be inferred from chemical 
analysis of the excretory products, which shows a larger 
amount of phosphates after mental application than 
after mental repose. 



4 



CHAPTER III 
THE CONSCIOUS LIFE 

In the last chapter we briefly described the physical 
basis of consciousness. In this chapter we shall consider 
in a general way consciousness itself. 

Characteristics of Consciousness. The word conscious- 
ness is a general term applied to the thoughts, sensations, 
feelings, and volitions of any being. The first charac- 
teristic of consciousness is its awareness of either some- 
thing '^ outside '^ of self, or its own self. In its latter form 
it is self-consciousness. In both cases it is a perceiving 
or knowing. All that we know of ourselves and the 
world is in consciousness or is consciousness itself. All 
that we know or ever shall know of the nervous system, 
the basis of consciousness, is consciousness itself . Other 
characteristics are its peculiar and ever changing tone, 
or its affective aspect, and its volitional activity that in 
part determines its own direction and content. 

How Consciousness is Detected. Consciousness is 
known only by itself, but its presence may be manifested 
through the medium of the body. We do not know, 
e. g., that an atom, or a flower, or a speck of protoplasm 
possesses consciousness. However, if the consciousness 
in an organism is intelligent, it may be detected by its 
acts, which are adapted to the end to be attained. 
Thus scientists, as Alfred Binet, conclude that even cer- 
tain microorganisms consisting of a single cell manifest 

50 



THE CONSCIOUS LIFE 51 

a psychic life by the exercise of discrimination and selec- 
tion in their search for food, and in the maneuvers at- 
tending conjugation.^ In respect to the higher forms of 
life, that exhibit not only various sense-organs, but also 
compHcated conduct, it hardly occurs to us to question 
the presence of mental qualities. 

The Isolation of Consciousness. The conscious life of 
every being — in this respect like Leibniz^s ^^windowless 
monads'^ — ^^is practically, if not really, completely iso- 
lated and, from all that we know from positive dem- 
onstration, might be entirely dissimilar in different in- 
dividuals. That is, it is impossible to determine or know 
just what is the sensation produced in others by a par- 
ticular stimulus, as light vibrations. All may agree in 
calling the sensation that of redness, yet there is no 
demonstration available as to what the real feeling in 
each person is. However, it is a reasonable conviction 
as deep-rooted as life itself, and grounded on the prac- 
tical requirements of our nature, that although each 
consciousness be isolated, the same objects and events 
arouse similar states in the minds of men, and, to some 
extent, of animals. 

Consciousness must have Content. How much con- 
sciousness, if any, accompanies the early stages of phys- 
ical development, is impossible to say. So gradual is the 
dawning of self-consciousness, that no definite time can 
be designated when we may say with certainty: Here 
consciousness begins. But it may be and probably is 
present in a rudimentary form even before birth. How- 
ever early or late consciousness may appear, it must in- 
variably be aware of something, even though dimly and 

1 The Psychic Life of Microorganisms^ 



52 THE MENTAL MAN 

indefinitely. It must express pain^ pleasure, comfort* 
ableness, a something not itself, an aliveness, a striving, 
an acting, resoluteness, or finally feel even conscious of 
its own consciousness : know that it knows. A conscious- 
ness that cannot claim this much for itself, is a mjrthical 
something of which psychology has nothing to say. 

Development of Consciousness. It is quite certain 
that the earliest form of consciousness is not the same as 
that of the adult. Yet just what it is cannot be remem- 
bered by anyone, but must rather be inferred. We may 
believe that the consciousness of the infant is, for the 
most part, undefined and meaningless, though fresh and 
intense. Undoubtedly all the sensations and feelings 
that are coursing through the sensitive being are merged 
into one undiscriminated consciousness; or as it has 
sometimes been described, the condition is one of ^^plu- 
rality of states of consciousness,^' or '^polyideism.^' I 
have a recollection from my very early childhood, of an 
experience that I beheve to be typical of infant con- 
sciousness. There seemed to be a diffused, undefined, 
general sensation, rather painful in tone, and, as it were, 
located in space, like a cloud, but not belonging to any- 
thing. Then by degrees there came full consciousness, 
and I found myself crying with pain, and carried about 
in my father's arms. Before being conscious, there was 
only dim, general sensation, but as soon as I awoke en- 
tirely, this resolved itself into me suffering with severe 
pain, carried about, etc. Thus, it may be assumed, the 
infant's earliest consciousness is general, but now and 
then it becomes specific through brief flashes of atten- 
tion. The development of consciousness is the develop- 
ment of the power to attend to one thing, which is 



THE CONSCIOUS LIFE 53 

equivalent to reducing general consciousness to very 
narrow limits. 

Conditions of Wakefulness. The general conditions 
under which consciousness occurs, have already been 
noted. We may repeat that without a discharge of a 
sufficient intensity in the cells of the brain, there is no 
consciousness. While the nervous system is undoubtedly 
traversed continually by waves of nervous discharge, 
yet consciousness occurs only when the discharge has 
reached an intensity called threshold value. And when 
the discharge involves the association-centers, thus 
setting up more vigorous activity in the entire brain, 
then we may be said to be awake, and therefore to be 
mentally active "par excellence. This may be shown ex- 
perimentally by producing a soft, musical sound close to 
a person asleep, and then gradually increasing its inten- 
sity. At first the sound produces no marked effect 
upon the sleeper, except that it may set up a dream- 
process or modify the dream already occurring, but as 
the intensity of the sound is further increased, the per- 
son will awaken. 

Fluctuations of Consciousness. The flow of con- 
sciousness is not uniform and continuous, but is subject 
to fluctuations and variations of different degrees. Sleep 
comes daily to the healthy person. There are, even 
during the waking state, moments of relaxation and 
comparative listlessness. This is particularly marked 
when wakefulness is enforced for a long period of time. 
Experiments performed on a number of persons ^ show 
that while the subjects were kept awake for ninety hours, 

1 By Professor Patrick and Dr. Gilbert. V. Psychological Review, 
III, p. 469 ff. 



54 THE MENTAL MAN 

it took only from sixteen to thirty-five and three tenths 
per cent of the lost sleep to make up for the loss com- 
pletely. This is accounted for in part by the supposi- 
tion that the persons were partially asleep, although 
apparently awake all the time. In support of this, the 
momentary dreams experienced by the subjects, while 
appearing awake, is conclusive evidence of the supposi- 
tion. Even at times of intense mental application there 
are fluctuations of the attention. Consciousness, like 
life in general, is not one sustained stream; it is rather 
the ocean with its ebb and flow, or the blood pulsing on 
rhythmically. After mental activity or effort comes re- 
laxation. Uniform attention cannot be sustained for 
more than a few seconds at a time, as may be shown by 
a little experiment. A white (Masson's) disk is made 
to rotate very rapidly and at a uniform rate by clock- 
work. On a radius of the disk at small intervals are 
short black lines (Figure 7), which may be shortened or 
lengthened by means of a slide. When the disk is ro- 
tating, these black lines will appear like rings (Figure 8), 
black near the center of the disk, but gradually shading 
into gray and white as they approach the edge of the 
disk. The last perceptible ring is hard to detect. Al- 
ternately it is seen for a moment and then it is not, 
according as attention rises and falls. The experiments 
of several scientists ^ have established the same sort of 
oscillations with regard to other senses. In the quiet of 
night, if a watch be placed just within range of hearing, 
its ticking may be heard at intervals only. 

Sleep and Dreaming. Sleep is nature's chief pro- 
vision for recuperating the nervous system, yet what 
1 First those of N. Lange and later those of J. B. Hylan. 



THE CONSCIOUS LIFE 



55 




Figs. 7 & 8. Masson's Disk. 



56 THE MENTAL MAN 

sleep is physiologically is still a matter of controversy. 
Whether the immediate cause of sleep is alone the 
anaemic state of the brain, or whether in addition it is 
the presence in the system of a larger amount of an alka- 
loid product called leucomaine, which results from the 
activity of the tissues of the body, as is held by some, 
we cannot here decide. However, during sleep conscious- 
ness is reduced, if not suspended, at least to the extent 
of closing more or less completely the avenues for sense- 
stimuli to enter, and motor impulses to egress, and of 
suspending the criticaF power of the mind. Even a 
comparatively dreamless sleep is not absolutely devoid 
of a sort of consciousness or feeling. The unconscious 
condition brought on by taking an anaesthetic feels dead 
as an object of memory compared with natural and 
healthy sleep. To be sure there are different degrees 
of sleep. We speak of the light and the deep sleep, and 
sleep with and without dreams. The difference, then, 
between wakefulness and sleep is in the intensity and 
extent of brain activity. In sleep there is a marked 
lowering of nervous activity, but generally leaving a 
simple process of representation to continue, or to start 
up, as dream-consciousness in a limited portion of the 
brain. Because these processes during sleep are limited, 
there is almost total absence of the critical attitude in 
dream-consciousness. 

Consciousness and Muscular Change. Every state of 
consciousness is accompanied by muscular changes, as 
we shall have occasion to remark again. The nervous 
system is an organic unity, in spite of the localization of 
functions, as pointed out in the last chapter.^ A stim- 

1 P. 46, 



THE CONSCIOUS LIFE 57 

ulus reacts upon the whole body, as can be seen clearly 
in the child. The existence of an idea or feeling reacts 
upon the motor region. Clear consciousness, which is a 
state of attention, is accompanied by changes in the 
muscles of respiration, of the heart, face, etc. Experi- 
ments performed to determine the physical characteris- 
tics of attention, show that ^Hhe more massive spas- 
modic contractions and expansions of the muscles, ^^ that 
are continually occurring are greatly reduced and some- 
times even disappear during attention.^ Sensorial at- 
tention (of sight and hearing) is always a plain case of 
organic adjustment to the proper kind of stimuli. In 
fact, it is held by some psychologists, such as Ribot, that 
the physical modifications that accompany attention, 
are its constituent elements, or indispensable factors of 
attention. Thought is carried on largely through vocal, 
or other symbols, the representation of which imply, 
if not actually entail, incipient or nascent muscular 
changes, either of the vocal organs or the eye. Emo- 
tions have their various expressions or '^attitudes,'' as 
is well known. We read in the gleam of the eye and 
the play of the facial hues, the steady gaze and the set 
jaw, the downcast face and stooped attitude, the pe- 
culiar state of the mind. 

Sensations and Mental Content. While consciousness 
as such depends upon nervous action, which may start 
up spontaneously in the brain, it is given its content and 
furnishings, so to speak, through the avenue of the 
senses. What consciousness pure and simple is without 
sensation, or the memory of sensation, is indeed diffi- 
cult to imagine. However, we have the testimony of a 

1 R. McDougall, Psychological Review, III, p. 158 ff. 



58 THE MENTAL MAN 

patient, who was completely ansesthetic or insensible, 
except in one eye ; when that was closed, he said that he 
felt as if he no longer existed. So important is sensa- 
tion in the mental life, that a school of psychology — ^the 
Sensationalists, especially Condillac, who lived in the 
eighteenth century— have thought it possible to explain 
every idea of which we are possessed on the basis of 
sense-impressions. To start with, the mind, according 
to sensationalism, is a blank tablet {tabula rasa) upon 
which then are written the various characters of sensa- 
tion (impressions), and these combined in various ways 
form the total content of the mind; they furnish us all 
our ideas, without exception, of the world, of self, of 
time and space, of cause and effect. One-sided and in- 
adequate as sensationalism is in its opposition to the 
doctrine of innate ideas — the doctrine that we are born 
with full-fledged ideas — it yet has lucidly and rather ex- 
haustively shown us the importance of sensations to 
the conscious hfe. It is true that organic and external 
stimuli arouse consciousness and furnish the mind with 
the ^^raw materials'' of thought as well as acquaint us 
with our environments for practical purposes. 

Change and Consciousness. As sensations (nerve- 
processes) are important in bringing about conscious- 
ness, so they are in maintaining wakefulness. To stim- 
ulate the flow of ideas, people often walk to and fro, 
scratch or strike their heads, and rub their eyes. The 
real office of these voluntary as well as involuntary 
movements seems to be to produce more sensations 
and thus augment consciousness. On the other hand, a 
monotonous sound, a scene with much sameness in its 
parts, an uneventful story, an idea kept before conscious- 



THE CONSCIOUS LIFE 59 

ness constantly without variation, — in short, any sen- 
sation or experience continued will result in loss of in- 
terest, and induce drowsiness and possibly hypnotic 
sleep. When we wish to sleep we close our eyes and ears, 
too, and relax every muscle. The mother's lullaby lead- 
ing ever to the same theme (motif) and tone, the patter 
of the rain, the clatter of the mill, the constant recur- 
ring vibrations of the carriage or railroad car, etc., pos- 
sess the elements of monotony and rest. An important 
feature in bringing on the hypnotic state by the op- 
erator, is directing the subject to attend continuously 
to some one thing, usually to gaze intently at a bright 
object. 

The Mind. The consciousness of a being taken in its to- 
tality, forming a continuous whole — as it were, a ^^ stream 
of consciousness'' — may be designated the mind, or soul. 
That is not to say that the mind is simply a collection of 
segments of consciousness. By mind we mean not mere 
conscious phenomena, but a force or potentiality of 
further conscious action running, so to speak, into 
depths inaccessible to and unillumined by the percep- 
tive activity of consciousness. Or, if this figure be mis- 
leading, we are never aware of the initial mechanism or 
force that determines the character and direction of con- 
sciousness. This .accounts for the fact that mentally 
we are somewhat of a mystery to our own selves. Fre- 
quently the psychic occurrences within us astonish and 
sometimes lead us to erroneous conclusions of our own 
powers and character. 

Synthesis Unconscious. It is true of all ideas that 
they occur as finished products, so to speak, and we are 
unconscious of the processes that produce them. For 



60 THE MENTAL MAN 

instance, a landscape appears to us in thought as one 
thing, notwithstanding that we come by it through a 
number of impressions — we have had to turn our eyes 
in this and that direction. The synthetic process that 
has given us the idea of the landscape remains uncon- 
scious to us. 

Inspiration. A famihar fact is the claim to inspira- 
tion in the conception and execution of some work. 
The author feels his work greater than and beyond him- 
self, and the ideas are presented in such a manner as to 
surprise the very mind from which they emanated. 
Hence the conviction that the results are not the natural 
output of the mind, but are inspired by an extraneous 
and superior power. Socrates believed that it was a 
demon within him that passed judgment on his contem- 
plated acts. He also maintained that the poets were 
often entirely ignorant of the deeper truth and beauty 
of their own writings. Philo the Jew makes the self- 
confession that often his empty mind suddenly becomes 
full, as if the thoughts had snowed from heaven, a di- 
vine frenzy possesses him, while he becomes uncon- 
scious of self and his environment, etc. A modern ex- 
ample of the inspiration-illusion is that of persons who 
beUeve that the automatic acts performed by them, such 
as automatic writing and drawing, and exphcit mental 
impressions, are the acts and messages of disembodied 
spirits. A lady well known to the author for many 
years, was of the intellectual type. Yet after the death 
of one of her daughters, she developed the power of au- 
tomatic acts, and had mental impressions in the form of 
messages, all of which she firmly believed to be from 
her deceased daughter, or others known to be dead. 



THE CONSCIOUS LIFE . 61 

Will and Subconscious Activity. In like manner 
there seems to be a blind element in our volitions. 
Though we grant that much the larger part of our vol- 
untary life is shaped from motive for some reason or 
the realization of some ulterior end^ on the other hand, 
some acts are willed, we know not why, except that we 
are constrained by an inner force or impulse. We will 
to do so and so because — we will^ or simply because. 
The child^s because is also the man's reason for many vo- 
litions; oftentimes it is the deepest and most hearty 
reason. Our whims and notions are the will emanating 
from unconscious depths. Our impulses and instincts, 
constituting such an essential and large part of life, 
appear as, or rather are the will acting blindly. The 
thoughtful man strives to bring his whole life under 
reason; he, therefore, habitually questions his motives. 
Thales taught, "Know thyself.'' How difficult it is to 
know ourselves is especially apparent as regards our acts. 
We either can find no n;iotive at all, or else we discover 
that the real motive is not the one uppermost in thought. 
We think, e. g., that we are acting unselfishly — we are 
usually ready to believe the best about ourselves — but 
impartial introspection may reveal that selfish consid- 
erations well masked and far back in the obscure cor- 
ners of the mind, are the impelling motives. Where one 
or two reasons are assigned for an act, rigid analysis 
may disclose a multitude of them determining the will. 

Dual Character. The same diflficulty is frequently en- 
countered in determining a man's character. There ap- 
pear strange contradictions of life and he may exclaim 
as did Faust, 

'^ Two souls, alas, dwell in my breast! " 



62 THE MENTAL MAN 

It is probably the clearest statement of the case to say 
that man possesses a dual character: a superficial^ ac- 
quired character^ and a deeper and more original one 
of which even the possessor is not clearly conscious. 
Where character has been developed in line with the 
original one, as is generally more or less the case, no 
contradictions appear. Otherwise on occasion the du- 
ality manifests itself. We then say of such a person 
that his true nature has come to the surface. When a 
man is ''in his cups'^ or has become insane, decided al- 
terations in disposition and character appear — the hon- 
est shows himself as dishonest, the virtuous as sensual, 
the miser as generous or a spendthrift, the modest as 
bold and shameless, ''not by the addition of any new 
ingredient to his nature,'' as Mercier puts it, "but by 
the uncovering and exposure of underlying qualities, 
which were always present in him, but which were over- 
laid, obscured, and suppressed by qualities of later ac- 
quisition.'' ^ No potion actually*transforms a Dr. Jekyll 
into a Mr. Hyde. 

Analogous are the irresistible impulses to commit 
theft, arson, murder, etc., even to the complete surprise 
of the subject himself, as is the case very frequently in 
insanity and other abnormal conditions. Contradictory 
elements in self may be demonstrated experimentally. 
Let us take the anaesthetic (completely insensible) hand 
of a hysterical patient, and let us cause it to trace the 
word "Paris" behind a screen. The consciousness of 
the patient knows nothing of this whatsoever. There- 
upon addressing ourselves to the subject himself, we ask 
him to write "London." Eagerly he wishes to carry 

^Sanity and Insanity, London, 1885, p. 332. 



THE CONSCIOUS LIFE 63 

out our request, but to his utter astonishment the pen 
writes Paris instead of London.^ 

Unconscious Impressions. Of the innumerable stim- 
uh from the objective world ever impinging upon the 
senses, we become aware of relatively few. The atten- 
tion is fixed upon this and that sensation, while of the 
rest we are apparently as unconscious as if they were 
not existing, though we may assume that a far larger 
number of stimuli produce a definite impression than 
appear in consciousness. For in times of intense ex- 
citement, as in febrile delirium they may come in evi- 
dence. It may also be demonstrated by an experiment 
employed by a recent investigator, though to prove 
another proposition. 

^' On slips of paper I made a series of complicated draw- 
ings. Each had a different pattern. The subject had 
to look at the pattern of the drawing for ten seconds, and 
then the slip was withdrawn and he had to reproduce 
the drawing from memory — a task extremely difficult. 
It took him about fifteen seconds and more before he 
could make anything bearing the slightest resemblance 
to the drawing shown. When he finished the draw- 
ing, an elongated cardboard with eight digits pasted in 
a row was shown to him and the subject had to choose 
whichever digit he pleased. Now, on the margin of each 
shp was written a digit contained in the number of digits 
on the cardboard from which the subject had to choose. 
The subject, not having the slightest suspicion of the 
real purpose of the experiments, being perfectly sure 
that the whole matter was concerning imitation of the 
drawings . . . and being besides intensely absorbed in 
1 Binet, On Double Consciousness. 



64 THE MENTAL MAN 

the contemplation and reproduction of the drawing, 
which was extremely complicated — the subject , I say, 
wholly disregarded the figure on the margin — he did not 
even notice it/' Yet it made an impression, for the 
percentage of figures chosen corresponding to the draw- 
ing, was much higher than chance.^ 

The extensive experiments ^ on hysterical subjects, 
likewise show that sense-impressions that do not reach 
the ''principar^ consciousness, because they lack the 
necessary intensity^ are taken note of by what has been 
called the ''secondary consciousness/' Two subjects 
that were observed, revealed in one-half of their bodies 
a total insensibility to punctures, pressure, burning, — - 
in short, to the most varied kinds of painful sensations; 
but when a lighted match was placed into the ansesthetic 
hand, the fingers would draw back from the flame in 
proportion as the latter advanced, and would finally re- 
lax, allowing the match to fall to the ground. Appar- 
ently the pain was felt and the proper defensive move- 
ments performed, yet the principal consciousness knew 
nothing whatsoever of all this. 

Deferred Impressions. Sometimes, too, impressions 
reaching the senses come to consciousness hours or days 
afterwards. A business man (as related to me) was 
asked a question while he was intently occupied with 
some one else. The questioner let the matter pass as it 
was of no great importance, but the next day on meet- 
ing the business man again, the former was surprised to 
receive the answer to the question of the day before 
without any apology. On inquiry it was learned that 

^ Sidis, The Psychology of Suggestion, New York, 1898, p. 172. 
2 By M. Binet. 



THE CONSCIOUS LIFE 65 

the business man was quite unconscious of the fact that 
the question had been asked some twenty-odd hours be- 
fore. Shakespeare gives us an illustration of this where 
the Prince, in King Henry IV, says: '^I am not yet of 
Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the north; he that kills me 
some six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes 
his hands, and says to his wife, ^Fie upon this quiet life! 
I want work.' '0 my sweet Harry,^ says she, 'how 
many hast thou killed to-day?' 'Give my roan horse a 
drench,' says he; and answers, 'Some fourteen,' an hour 
after: 'a trifle, a trifle.' " ^ 

Revivable Impressions in Unconscious Background. 
As impressions made upon the mind are revivable as 
memories, psychologists speak of the retention of im- 
pressions. While impressions are nowhere, in a sense, 
when they have passed put of consciousness, neverthe- 
less there certainly is a difference between the impres- 
sion that has passed beyond recall and the one which 
we may bring to mind at any time. The latter un- 
doubtedly exists potentially somewhere, and that 
"place" must be the unconscious background of con- 
sciousness. Experiment in automatic writing with the 
planchette likewise reveals the fact that some things of 
which the subject is wholly ignorant (evidently because 
they could not be remembered) can be written down au- 
tomatically — which is the proof that impressions exist 
even though we are not conscious of them.^ A quite 
different proof, yet to the same effect, is furnished by 
hypnotism. AVhat is said and done to a person in a deep 
hypnotic state, is generally not remembered by him, yet 

1 Pt. I, Act II, Scene IV, 1. 100 ff. 

2 V. pp. 199-201. 

5 



66 THE MENTAL MAN 

if he be told to do something at a stated future time, 
after regaining his normal condition, he will carry out 
the instructions at the proper time and not know why 
he does so. 

Habit and Unconscious Activity. An important and 
large part of man^s training consists of learning how 
to do certain things with less consciousness and effort. 
All coordinated muscular movement, such as walking, 
reaching, etc., is at first accomphshed by giving the 
strictest attention to the act. The same is true of the 
accomplishments that involve the intellect to a greater 
extent, such as reading, writing, computing, or playing 
a musical instrument. The laborious efforts of the be- 
ginner turn, however, into the swift, unerring, and more 
or less unconscious acts of the master. Habitual acts 
executed skillfully and easily always imply unconscious 
activity. The extent and complexity of the unconscious 
activity is instanced in the somnambule who may per- 
form complicated and delicate acts while entirely un- 
conscious. 

Unconscious Causes of Mental States. Frequently we 
are baffled in our attempts to account for our feelings 
and convictions, just as we saw is sometimes the case in 
regard to the will. How often do we find our minds dis- 
turbed by we know not what! When the cause is per- 
sistently sought for, it sometimes presents itself as 
something forgotten, neglected, or done by or to us. 
Likewise we come to a conclusion or conviction before 
there is a distinct consciousness of the reasons. If it is 
felt that there are good reasons therefor, we call such a 
mental judgment an intuition;^ if our judgment is felt 

1 V. p. 222. 



THE CONSCIOUS LIFE 67 

as ungrounded^ then it passes as a prejudice^ or super- 
stition. In any case, be it intuition, prejudice, or super- 
stition, the judgment is the conscious outcome of causes 
not found in consciousness. That unconscious processes, 
like comparing, selecting, and reasoning, occur some- 
where is not to be doubted; for persons have been known 
to work out difficult problems while soundly asleep. 
Then, too, it is a common occurrence that various intri- 
cate problems come up which we are unable to dispose 
of; we first have need to dismiss them and ^' sleep on 
them,^^ as the expression goes, then to find, when we re- 
call the matter, all clear and solved. 

Minimum of Consciousness. Undoubtedly many re- 
puted unconscious processes find their explanation in the 
fact that they are not wholly unconscious, as is sup- 
posed, but the minimum of consciousness. It is plain 
that the mind attends to one thing more than to another, 
and consequently has varying degrees of consciousness, 
of which the minimum is most readily forgotten. One 
has but to think of the evanescent nature of most dreams 
and many thoughts, which are forgotten almost as soon 
as they have occurred. However, this explains only 
those which are not truly unconscious processes, and we 
feel that even a superlative ^^ minimum'' of conscious- 
ness cannot apply to some cases. And, pray, how does 
a ^^ minimum" that eludes detection even under the most 
rigorous search differ from absolute unconsciousness? 

The Explanation. The simplest expression of the 
facts is physiological. The neurones, especially those of 
the central system, are so deficately constituted and sub- 
ject to such complicated activity that there is never a 
moment that finds them in complete rest, but alterations 



68 THE MENTAL MAN 

in chemical structure are taking place incessantly as 
synthetic and analytic processes^ which^ on account of 
their faintness, do not cross the threshold of conscious- 
ness. Some of these nerve-discharges^ we may suppose, 
are stimulated by the continuous rhythm of vital func- 
tions; some are the uninhibited reverberations, so to 
speak, of previous states of consciousness, while still 
others must be looked upon as the spontaneous issue 
of brain-cell energy. That these activities follow the 
paths of inherited and acquired habits as well as be in 
line with the normal functioning of the brain during 
consciousness, is precisely what we should expect. Al- 
though these processes take place beneath the thresh- 
old of consciousness, now and then they seem to blend 
with other processes to modify them, or suddenly ac- 
quire threshold value. 

Value of Consciousness. Consciousness possesses for 
us supreme value. Dear as life is to the average man, 
no one would hesitate to pronounce it worse than worth- 
less, were it not for consciousness. We love and cling to 
life because it means a consciousness of life with its many 
varied relations and experiences. All our interests lie 
in consciousness, and without it, life and the world 
would in every sense lose their meaning. Men of all 
times have emphasized the worth of consciousness, be 
it under the name of mind, spirit, soul, or life. No 
wonder, then, that an immortal life has been the de- 
voutest hope of mankind. 

Significance of the Subconscious. Yet this conscious- 
ness, so central in our interests, is but a fraction of that 
which constitutes the man and his complete life. We 
believe that the emphasis put on consciousness, as is 



THE CONSCIOUS LIFE 69 

done by the Cartesians,^ is one-sided and misleading. 
For the conscious hfe is preceded by an unconscious 
state from which it emanates by degrees, and then con- 
tinues, not on a dead level, but having interruptions and 
lulls as well as ebbs and floods. Potent agencies in its 
course are the stimuli from the outside world, on the one 
hand, and the subconscious influences and activities, on 
the other. The mind, then, works and manifests itself 
in accordance with definite laws, which, for the most 
part, never come into the clear light of consciousness. 
The conscious life is an expression of the man, yet its 
depths lie deep in an unconscious substratum. 

Although much emphasis is laid on what man can 
make of himself, and rightly so, yet that which is of our 
making must be done wittingly and with purpose. Con- 
sciousness is more of an index of the person than a factor 
that directly shapes character in its depths. Our many 
impulses and instincts, often but dimly seen and under- 
stood, uniting with acquired habit as a mighty under- 
current, bear us on to the fulfillment of lifers purposes. 

Consciousness a Positive Factor. While we have 
deemed it necessary in this chapter to point out rather 
fully the extent and importance of the subconscious 

1 '* But neither in the heavens above nor in the earth beneath nor 
in the waters that are under the earth, nor in consciousness, — 
whether regarded as envisagement or postulate or inference, — ' Hes * 
any such Ego as this (an elusive, unknown, and unknowable Ego). 
And if it were existent and could be cornered and caught in spite of 
its attempts to 'elude cognition,' it would be an absolutely worth- 
less ' catch ' at the best. For it is only the Ego that, instead of ' elud- 
ing cognition,' is actually present in every act of self -consciousness, 
self-knowing and self -known, which has any claim to existence, or 
to worth of existence in case it validates its claim." — Ladd, Philoso- 
phy of Mind, New York, 1895 p. 163 ff. 



70 THE MENTAL MAN 

elements and acts, it is not to be forgotten, on the other 
hand, that consciousness reaches down into the subcon- 
scious forces and character of man. Every thought and 
emotion and conscious act leaves its record upon the 
mind. We have already seen how mental discipline 
leaves even its visible marks upon the brain in an in- 
crease of cortical substance.^ Our conscious acts re- 
peated tend to become habit, and habit may be trans- 
mitted by heredity to the offspring as instinct, which, in 
turn as an unconscious factor, is subject to the influences 
of the conscious life. In other words, consciousness is 
not a superfluous element — an epi-phenomenon, as Hux- 
ley has termed it — in the real life of man. The mental 
man, on the one hand, is not merely an intricate mechan- 
ism, capable of adaptation to its environment, and in 
addition, of putting forth a wonderful evanescent prod- 
uct called consciousness, which has no more significance 
than the shadow of the human frame. Nor, on the other 
hand, is the mental man simply a consciousness that can 
be understood in and by itself. Psychology must admit 
a variety of facts and phenomena for consideration, if 
mind is to be understood as one of the factors of life. 

ip.33. 



CHAPTER IV 
WILL 

Activity — WilL A prominent feature of the life of 
man is its activity. There are the brain, the sense- 
organs, and numerous muscles in various parts of the 
body, and all these are active from the beginning in one 
way or other. At first the mental activity — such as it 
is — and the bodily movements are spontaneous and re- 
flexive, and are to no conscious purpose. Even the 
movements that serve a definite end, such as sucking, 
crying, biting, attending to sense-stimuli, are reflexive 
with the child ; that is, they are unconsciously produced 
by the mechanism of the nervous system. But after a 
while, these various spontaneous and automatic activ- 
ities gradually become a part of the conscious experience, 
and then are regulated and controlled in a manner that 
is called voluntary. An act that is performed without 
consciousness is never felt to be voluntary. In order 
that an act may be regarded as voluntary, it must be 
performed with consciousness. 

Consciousness and Will. But it does not follow, as is 
held by the so-called voluntarists, that consciousness in 
itself is invariably voluntaristic, i. e., possesses that par- 
ticular quality or characteristic that we note in volun- 
tary acts. By referring directly to consciousness, we 
find there passive states of consciousness as well as those 
expressive of will; and in the delirium of a fever ideas 

71 



72 THE MENTAL MAN 

and images course through the mind wildly and uncon- 
trolled, and the subject of them feels utterly impotent 
to check or abolish them. It would hardly be proper to 
ascribe volition to consciousness of this kind. In other 
words, volition, or will, is not to be thought of as con- 
sciousness, in spite of the fact that we recognize no act 
as voluntary unless it somehow springs out of conscious- 
ness. 

Varieties of Will. Will manifests itself variously. It 
exercises control over consciousness itself and the sense- 
organs as attention; over ideas and their relation as 
thought; and over the voluntary muscles as kinetic will. 
The master of self has control in all these ways, and 
his development from impotent infancy has been along 
these lines. Primitive consciousness is diffused and in- 
distinct, and a regulating act is implied in bringing 
original diffused consciousness, such as we infer is found 
in the infant, to some definiteness and clearness. Clear 
consciousness undoubtedly implies a form of original at- 
tention. 

Involuntary Attention. So also the power to attend 
to, or to dwell upon, any sensation, image, or ideal is a 
matter of gradual development and is parallel with the 
development of consciousness — from consciousness as 
sensation to that of consciousness as thought. The 
child begins by involuntarily attending to the sensations 
arising in it through different stimuli. As the sense- 
organs, such as the eyes and ears, involuntarily accom- 
modate themselves so as better to receive the stimuli of 
light and sound, so the mind directs itself to some par- 
ticular sensations in order fully to reaUze them. The 
eye turns to the brightest light as spontaneously as the 



WILL 73 

growing plant does. The ear accommodates itself in- 
ternally to the strongest or most characteristic sound 
as the weathervane turns to the wind. So the brain has 
the power to suppress a portion of its excitations and 
maintain another part which relates to the exciting 
cause; and so a particular mental function responds to 
the stimulus — in other words, the stimulus arouses at- 
tention, which then is "perceiving consciousness (percep- 
tion). 

Selective Will. As yet attention is only spontaneous 
and hence involuntary. But when the mind selects or 
attends to this rather than that, not because the thing 
compels attention through its attractiveness, but be- 
cause of choice for either immediate or remote purpose, 
then it is voluntary attention, or selective will. At this 
stage of development we may take the matter that is 
ordinarily least attractive, into the limited field of clear 
consciousness (narrowness of consciousness) and neg- 
lect all the rest. 

Selective Will in Thinking. It is in thinking eminently 
that the selective will is active. Whenever the mind is 
in a waking state, a multitude of images and ideas come 
and go according to the natural course of association. 
One thing or idea suggests another ad infinitum. They 
come uncalled and they lead to no end. AVhen, how- 
ever, active attention holds this and that idea before 
consciousness, thereby dismissing the rest, because the 
former are needed to reach some definite conclusion, 
then we have thought. 

Kinetic Will. It is also a gradual process extending 
over many years of repeated trials to control hands, arms, 
feet, legs, eyes, tongue, vocal organs, etc., for only the 



74 THE MENTAL MAN 

commonest of the great variety of possible movements. 
How imperfect our control is^ even after years of life, 
may be seen in the futile efforts that we make to draw 
a perfectly straight line or a perfect circle off-hand. 

Development of Will. Getting control, then, of the 
formerly uncontrolled movements, learning to select 
and hold in consciousness any image, idea, or sensation 
brought there by chance, association, or previous vo- 
lition, constitutes the development of the human will. 
Growth or decline of these powers gives us the con- 
sciousness of the growth and decline of the will. It then 
follows, that he who has never checked or guided an 
impulse and movement, and has never engaged in 
thinking — that such a one has not had the first expe- 
rience of will. 

Control of Voluntary Muscles. The full development 
of the regulative power means that we are able to ex- 
ercise direct control over our so-called voluntary mus- 
cles, and so produce and restrain movements of the 
body. The hands, fe^t, head, eyes, tongue, etc., can be 
directed by the will. In fact, the distinction between 
voluntary and involuntary muscles is only relative. 
For some persons can directly control so-called invol- 
untary muscles. Thus the physiologist E. F. Weber 
could at will stop the action of his heart, and Fontana 
could produce contraction of the iris. Indirectly we can 
produce change in other parts of the body by holding 
before our mind the appropriate idea. Our ^' imagi- 
nary^^ ills and pains often become real in time; and our 
physical well-being is quite as often the result of per- 
sistent declarations that all is well; or we may even 
produce change in the body of another person by sug- 



WILL 75 

gestion, best illustrated by hypnotism. This matter 
will be treated in another chapter. 

Direction of Consciousness: Attention and Thinking. 
We also feel that we direct our thoughts; we hold before 
consciousness sensations and ideas; we restrain imperti- 
nent and unallowable associations; we bring to memory 
past experiences; make new combinations of ideas, and 
frame new resolutions; approve and condemn, compare 
and weigh, select and dismiss. 

Will Defined. This we call will — the power of direct- 
ing or restraining our activities to the extent that we feel 
ourselves the actors, and not merely passive spectators of 
our conscious, changing mind and body, — the whole mind 
active J as Angell has tersely put it.^ 

Will Analyzed: 1. Idea. We have already stated that 
before there can be voluntary acts there must be a con- 
sciousness of the acts, or ideas as objects for the will to 
realize. An act that does not follow an idea, whether it 
serves a purpose or not, can in no sense be called volun- 
tary, inasmuch as it has no place in consciousness. Such 
an act may be merely reflexive, and in no way express 
the will of the person. In other words, before one can 
will to do something he must know what he wishes to do, 
or represent to himself the act. It is quite evident that 
the idea or representation may be very vague, indefinite, 
and lacking in details; or it may be vivid and complete. 
For example, I may have the idea, write — earth. Or I 
may not only have before me the idea of writing the word 
earth, but also a definite representation of the exact ap- 
pearance of the word and of the movements of the hand 
and arm that have to be performed in writing the word. 
I Psychology, New York, 1908, p. 397, 



76 THE MENTAL MAN 

In either case the ideas are sufficient for the purpose of 
voluntary action. Yet it is plain that the clearer and 
more specific the representation, the more properly can 
the act be designated as voluntary. In other words, 
there are degrees of voluntariness. In writing these 
words page after page, I think merely the words, while 
the spelling of them and formation of the letters are 
almost entirely automatic. In the common daily acts 
and routine we employ a sort of mental shorthand, or 
conscious initiative, while the details of the acts are 
automatically executed. In exceptional and extreme 
cases, a voluntary act may be performed with an ad- 
mixture of a long and complicated series of automatic 
acts. For example, a friend, who helped in the rescue of 
two drowning bathers, says that he was dressing when 
the cry of distress reached his ears. He rushed out half 
clad, leaped over a creek in a gully, made his way over 
snags and through underbrush and over a barbed wire 
fence into the river with no thought in his mind but to 
reach the drowning persons. How he reached them he 
did not have the faintest idea, except by inference. 
The rescue was voluntary, but the details were auto- 
matically performed. 

2. Correlation of Idea and Muscles. Again, it was 
seen that before one can perform an act expressed in 
bodily movements, control of the muscles must be 
gained. The question now arises, even though one has 
the idea of a physical movement, how is it possible to 
affect the proper nerve and muscle and carry out the 
act? I may wish, e. g., to bend the right index finger; 
what is the cue that enables me to perform the act? 
Our answer is, there must be found or established a path 



WILL 77 

of discharge from the centers of thought to the ap- 
propriate motor centers. The finding or estabhshing of 
such a path does not occur voluntarily, but is a matter 
of development, extending through months and years 
of the earlier part of life. It is then that a multitude of 
reflexive, impulsive movements take place, bringing 
nearly every muscle and joint of the body into use. 
Each movement yields its peculiar (kinesthetic) sensa- 
tions that are registered upon the brain and by degrees 
originate the idea of the movement. Hence the asso- 
ciation of a movement and the consequent idea of a 
movement is most intimate. If now we start with the 
idea of a movement, it should not be so much a diffi- 
culty to see how it resolves itself into movement as how 
it should not. For the idea of a movement possesses 
motor impulse, and thus tends to express itself in a 
movement. It is in this intimate relationship, then, be- 
tween a particular ideational state and a physical change 
established during months and years of experience, that 
we are to look for the cue to every voluntary movement, 
indeed, the cue to our movements is the immediate cor- 
relation established through experience; for neither in- 
trospection nor any examination reveals anything else 
in us through which the inner self is enabled to inau- 
gurate change — the key, as it were, through which the 
idea may get at the appropriate bodily parts. 

3. Consent or Inhibition. But, if we are to trust our 
own consciousness about the matter, there is more to 
volition, or will, than a mere idea of an act and the re- 
sultant change. I may, e. g., have the idea of moving a 
finger, and have the movement. Yet this does not in- 
dicate will. The essential thing in willing is that state 



78 THE MENTAL MAN 

or moment of self, which precedes every voluntary act 
that may be expressed by the command to one's self, 
'^Now act!'' or ''Now let the idea be realized!" Any 
act; although preceded by the idea, yet not receiving 
the sanction or consent of the self, is disclaimed and for- 
eign to the will. In any physical or mental act, that 
which constitutes it an act of will is the mental process 
that either consents to have the idea realized or in- 
hibited (checked), or makes up the content of conscious- 
ness through selection. According to some psycholo- 
gists, the fundamental element in volition is inhibition, 
or checking of some activities, but permitting other 
tendencies or impulses, either physical or ideational, to 
resolve themselves into acts. Consent is, according to 
this view, only the absence of an inhibition. But be 
this as it may, the result is the same as a positive sanc- 
tion of an act. 

4. Motive. It may be asked why we consent to any 
particular idea, or to do this rather than something 
else. This is the inquiry after the motive of action. 
Has every voluntary act a motive, and what is a 
motive? 

If an act be analyzed, it will appear that besides the 
more or less distinct idea and preeminently active as- 
pect of consciousness, there is also present at the same 
time an emotion. And as we perceive these mental 
aspects standing in definite relation to one another — ■ 
each idea calling up its own emotion or vice versa — and 
standing also in relation to the act, which follows the 
idea and its peculiar emotional aspect, they are called 
the motive of an act. As a voluntary act invariably 
implies a particular antecedent condition of the mind 



WILL 79 

that we have described as the motive, it is tautological 
to add that no voluntary act takes place without a 
motive. 

Motive not Apart from Act. But it is not to be 
thought that the motive, although antecedent, is, in 
any sense, apart from the act of will, any more than the 
electric tension in the cloud is apart frgm the discharge 
as a thunderbolt. Before acting we often deliberate; 
we marshal various ideas, and test and weigh them, but 
usually, sooner or later, some one idea comes up or gains 
a potency that determines the outcome. Whether or 
not that idea derives its force from its suitableness to 
our nature, or because it has been discovered to accord 
with some principle, or expresses a concept of wider ap- 
phcation and greater satisfaction, it does possess in every 
case a potency, an emotional efficiency that enlists the 
mind to act. 

Motives the Spontaneous Output of Mind. Since by 
the logic of things, motives determine the act — the kind 
and extent — and since motives are not produced ex 
nihilo by the person, but are the impelling element of the 
mind springing from its very being, it follows that every 
voluntary act is the expression of the actor's nature. A 
person does not transcend himself — the potential, ulti- 
mate self — in either feeling, thought, or conduct. Any 
act of will has for its antecedent all of the person's previ- 
ous life experiences, as well as his inherited qualities. A 
person's likes and dislikes are the product of his birth and 
past training and experiences. His desires spring up 
spontaneously, and his thinking is largely determined by 
the laws of thought. As it is impossible to will away any 
of these elements^ they must necessarily enter into vol- 



80 THE MENTAL MAN 

untary acts; that is, they must, within certain Hmits, de- 
termine the will. 

Freedom of Will. It now remains to point out briefly, 
from a psychological view, in what sense the common 
conviction is true that will is free. The testimony of 
consciousness is that we are not mechanisms, in which 
the principle of causality forms the nexus as in the physi- 
cal world, but are the makers of our characters to the 
extent that we are responsible for our conduct. 

Freedom Defined. The above analysis does not dis- 
prove freedom, but it shows, I think, that a will acting 
arbitrarily and irrespectively of the nature of the mind 
and its experiences, is a mythical product and not a 
human will. If by freedom is meant the ability to act 
without any principle and reference to other facts, as 
though the will had no relation to anything in the 
world, then there is no freedom. But if by freedom is 
meant the power consciously to have self-movement 
within natural limits to the extent that we feel ourselves 
the actors and not merely passive spectators of our con- 
scious, changing mind and body, then the term free can 
be applied to the will. 

Limits of Freedom. The natural limits within which 
freedpm manifests itself are the ideas, emotions, and im- 
pulses, which arise spontaneously in the mind according 
to its nature and its experiences. Though all of them are 
the product of the mind, it does not accord them all the 
same attention, but dismisses some and holds others for 
its own reahzation. By dwelling upon an idea, we know 
not why,^ and thereby giving opportunity for the ap- 
propriate emotion to arise, the mind may be said to 
1 That is, the choice seems blind and motiveless. Cf. pp. 61, 112. 



WILL 81 

elect its motive. The election occurs from among a 
limited number of motives possible for the mind to put 
forth and in accordance with its own interests. Thus the 
will acts according to its own nature. So it can be said 
that, because mind is what it is and has some rational 
insight into its own nature and its essential relations in 
the world; it forms its own motives without any com- 
pulsion but its own nature. At every point of the con- 
scious life there seems to reside an inherent power that 
throws emphasis upon this or that element of conscious- 
ness through selective attention; it dismisses, represses, 
and checks other elements through the power of inhi- 
bition. To deny this power of attention and inhibition 
would be to deny a plain fact of consciousness. For 
nothing is more certain in introspection than that we 
can repress emotions and check impulses; in other 
words, that we are not automatons, ever expressing with 
inflexible necessity every idea, emotion, and impulse 
that comes to consciousness, but before we act we may 
deliberate what is to be done. There are thus brought 
before the mind various interests, personal desires, pru- 
dence and duty, and ideas of various actions or courses 
of conduct, and from them we choose that which com- 
mends itself to the deliberating mind. It is from this 
broader outlook, which we have during deliberation, 
that we may get still other ideas and ideals, and so ever 
enlarge our outlook. Thus, while we are not able to 
transcend our characters — i. e., our potential and not 
actual characters — at any one moment, we are able, be- 
cause of the very nature of consciousness, which is to 
know, to deliberate, to form larger and higher concepts — 
to reach out after, grasp and appropriate, as it were, the 
6 



82 THE MENTAL MAN 

very thoughts and ideals, which were revealed to us the 
moment before through deliberation. Thus every step 
of conduct is natural yet not necessitated. Each step 
is a self-expression, and yet, so to speak, it adds to self. 
By a series of self-expressions, in which the whole per- 
sonality is the immediate antecedent of choice, charac- 
ter can be considerably modified. While the mind is re- 
stricted and limited by its own nature, it is eminently 
free to give expression to itself. Man, because he has 
consciousness and the power of deliberation, is like a 
spectator in a high tower looking about on a large ho- 
rizon. He can concentrate his attention on any portion 
of it, and neglect the rest. Or his thought is as ten- 
drils that he can put forth and fasten on objects to draw 
these in or to draw himself up to the objects. Or again, 
as he is provided with means of locomotion, enabling 
him to carry himself far beyond where nature has placed 
him, so he also has mind by which he can get away and 
beyond his original character, or nature. And this is 
all the freedom that can be expected and that is desirable. 
New purposes in life may be gained ; tastes diametrically 
opposed to the old ones may be formed; and new prin- 
ciples acquired to dominate our conduct. It is because 
of these convictions deeply ingrained in our very being, 
,that we have an ineradicable sense of moral responsi- 
bility. 

Determinism. It is not necessary here to state the ar- 
guments for determinism of the will. This, however, is 
essentially the view of determinists : 

The will is not free, for that would be caprice, a dis- 
turbing element in the universe. But cause and effect 
alike apply to will. The will acts according to motive, 



WILL 83 

and motive is the effect of causes, viz., the nature, educa- 
tion, and experience of the individual. With such pre- 
cision does the will act, that scientists figure out the num- 
ber of suicides, births, etc., that will occur in a future 
year. Even manufacturers can estimate the future de- 
mand for any article, and by that gauge the output of the 
commodity. The will, in fact, is not a cause but an ef- 
fect, a passive accompaniment of physical changes. The 
will, like consciousness in general, does not produce but 
testifies to the existence of a condition. 

Spheres of Interest. The expression of the will is 
thought, action, conduct. As the conscious life is a con- 
tinuity, as well as the physical life, the acts of will are not 
isolated or unrelated in their bearings, but usually have 
reference to some sphere of interests. Each voluntary 
act has its immediate motive, which in turn may be sub- 
ordinate to some general or ulterior motive. The farmer 
plows the ground in order to loosen the soil, in order 
that the seed may grow, in order that he may have some- 
thing to live on, etc. In other words, the will acts in- 
variably from motive and usually also for some reason, or 
remoter motive. We say acts usually for some reason; 
for, as stated in a previous chapter, some acts are per- 
formed for no discoverable motive beyond their own 
immediate realization, and furnish an illustration of the 
will acting blindly, though not in the sense of Schopen- 
hauer, viz., unconsciously. 

Supreme Motive. The spheres of interests, or reasons 
or remoter motives, with reference to which the rational 
acts are performed, constitute, as it were, the springs of 
action. Of these there may be many, but the will at- 
taches special importance to one or the other according 



84 THE MENTAL MAN 

to the circumstances; i. e.^ the various springs of action 
may be subordinate or subject to one that is supreme to 
all others, and not in a fixed hierarchy, as Dr. Martineau 
maintained in his Types of Ethical Theory. To be sure, 
there are persons that do not seem to be possessed of a 
supreme motive, but are controlled by various ulterior 
motives natural to them, without one or the other ever 
gaining supremacy. In other words, some men have no 
defined principles of conduct. Their acts are to appease 
hunger, keep clothed and housed, maintain a certain 
position in the social world, to be free from sickness and 
pain, and the like. Though these motives are instinctive, 
in a sense, and fundamental, they are brought under a 
supreme spring of action more or less completely by the 
man that is usually of a serious, thoughtful turn of mind. 
What this supreme motive, or principle may be, depends 
on temperament, education, and experience. With one 
it is virtue (Stoics), with another pleasure (Epicurus), or 
the categorical imperative (Kant), which expresses itself 
in Thou shalt or shalt not, or utility (J. S. Mill) for the 
individual and the race. 

Means Made the End. It occurs also as the exception 
that a person^s supreme ambition is the attainment of 
some thing that is usually regarded as a means to an end, 
and not an end in itself. Thus one is controlled by his 
thirst for money, and not for that which money will buy 
(miser) ; or for the discovery of new facts, and not for 
what value these facts may have upon the great body of 
truth and their relation to man ; ^ or he may make su- 
preme the desire to be successful in what he has set before 
him even though it be nothing more than a game. The 
1 Pragmatism is a recent philosophical protest against this attitude. 



WILL 85 

scholar^s attitude is well expressed in what Lessing says 
of himself: ''If God held all truth in His right hand, and 
in His left only the everliving impulse for truth; if He 
said to me, 'Choose/ I should, even though with the con- 
dition that I should remain forever in error, with hu- 
mility incline towards His left, and say, 'Father, give; 
pure truth is for Thee alone/ '' ^ 

Physical Motives. It is during the period of infancy, 
both individual and racial, that the body is the chief 
concern. On the whole, it is a sensuous life; the princi- 
pal enjoyments and solicitude are those of the senses; 
and the only motives are those that concern the senses. 
Physical punishment and threats, promises of that which 
gives pleasure to the senses, are the means of correction 
and inducements for any desired course. Might makes 
right among primitive races, and not considerations of 
the fitness of things. The ideals before them are physical 
strength and boldness, material possessions, and "length 
of days'' in which to enjoy life. 

Social Motives. But no person is a pure egoist. Man 
is a social being. His life is among others, each one of 
whose claims must be considered to some extent. He 
craves the company of others, and courts their approval 
and applause. In most men the social instinct is so 
strong that deprivation of the company of others and 
their good will is well-nigh unendurable. So to the ex- 
tent that a person has social needs, so far is he willing to 
yield a portion of his physical comforts, pleasure, and 
concerns, in order to attain the good will and recognition 
of others. 

The most pronounced social attitude is noticed in the 

1 Eine Duplik, 



86 THE MENTAL MAN 

family. There is here not only the physical relation but 
a corresponding mental afl&nity, affection, and aspiration. 
Next comes the social attachment to friends and ac- 
quaintances, the community in which one lives, his 
country, men of his race, and finally for the human race 
in the widest sense of the word. 

Spiritual Motives. Furthermore, at a certain stage of 
development, man feels that his real being is that '' part'' 
of him that thinks, feels, determines, etc. It is the stage 
when man perceives and values mind above all other 
things, and he feels that the soul is the man. Coordinate 
with this consciousness comes an appreciation of mental 
development for its own sake. A supreme regard is had 
for power of the intellect, for the states of mind that 
determine the conduct of the individual, and for the 
affective aspect of consciousness as such. The spirit is 
more highly valued than life ; the motive is placed above 
the outer act; the tastes, ideals, and attitude of the 
mind — the treasures in heaven — above material posses- 
sions — the treasures upon earth, etc. 

This aspect of man, which finds supreme satisfaction 
in the existence and development of mental qualities, 
may be called the spiritual, or the inner man. It asserts 
itself in efforts in education and in the advancement of a 
broader culture. It shows itself in its emphasis of true 
rationality, or ideality. Civilized man knows nothing 
higher than duty — and one's duties are his ideals, which 
he feels ought to prevail. From this springs the faith in a 
Supreme Being, in whom man seeks to realize the highest 
possible ideals and to whom imperfect man approaches 
to worship Perfection, and to draw inspiration for his 
spiritual self. It is the spiritual self in devotion to the 



WILL 87 

Father of Spirits, that finds supreme satisfaction in the 
harmonizing and identifying of the actual self with the 
ideal. 

Various Simultaneous Motives. While this is the or- 
der of the development of motives, it must not be for- 
gotten that man simultaneously has many functions, 
instincts, and desires running out in different directions, 
and that these occur in every human being, but in vary- 
ing proportions. No normal man is all animal, or all 
social, or all spiritual. To be sure, there are those that 
are chiefly physical or exceedingly social. Besides, his- 
tory abounds in ascetics, who have striven to suppress 
the physical and social man.^ But asceticism, as a phi- 
losophy and a practice, is foreign to this age. 

What our acts or conduct should be, is for ethics, a 
science of values, to point out; yet psychology may ex- 
amine and judge acts from a point of vigor, health, 
promptness, and persistency. 

Irresolution. As already seen, the will manifests it- 
self in attention, thought, and muscular movement or in 
repression of movement (inhibition). Irresolution is a 
mental state in which volition is, for the time being, de- 
ferred. It is probably due to an equal distribution of 
feeling with regard to several ideas. Various courses 
of action or ends present themselves, but until some one 
of them develops a preponderance of emotion, vohtion 
remains suspended. Who has not, at times, found him- 
self pondering over a trifling matter an undue length of 
time, and unable to come to a decision, when any de- 
cision would serve the purpose? The contemplative, 
critical mind, that thinks before acting, is likely to be 

I The absolutely unsocial man must be regarded as an anomaly. 



88 THE MENTAL MAN 

irresolute until one of the many considerations called up 
gains sufficient emotional strength for a decision^ or the 
will of another person supervenes. Irresolution implies 
more or less of a conflict of motives varying in intensity 
as the intensity of the motives. In the healthy mind 
the conflict sooner or later ends in favor of one of the 
ideas. A continued irresolution, however, is an indica- 
tion of a pathological condition. Doubting mania, or 
Grlibelsucht, e. g., is a condition where doubting and 
hesitation continue constantly. At first the patient is 
merely afflicted with endless questions about the com- 
monest acts, then comes greater uncertainty regarding 
his acts, and finally fear and perplexity render him al- 
most inactive in certain lines. ^^Such was the cathedral 
beadle mentioned by Morel, who, worried for twenty- 
five years by absurd fears, no longer dares to touch his 
halberd, reasons with himself, and triumphs over him- 
self, but by a sacrifice that he is apprehensive of being 
unable to make the next time.'' ^ 

Suspension or Enfeeblement of Will. Suspension or 
enfeeblement of will is no uncommon occurrence. This 
has been described as a paralysis of the will. Mentally 
the condition is felt as a fear. There are persons af- 
flicted with fear for places and spaces/ of which they 
are powerless to rid themselves. The case of 0. G., 
living on a farm just outside of a small Iowa town, in- 
terestingly illustrates just such a disturbance of the will, 
as well as of the emotions. For many years he has not 
been able to force himself to go over the hill into town, 
until recently, and even now, in his thirty-seventh year, 

1 Ribot, The Diseases of the Will. 

2 Unscientifically called Agoraphobia, 



WILL 89 

he at no time feels free to go anywhere he wishes. "I 
can hardly accurately describe/' he writes to me, ^Hhe 
peculiar and unpleasant sensations that I have to en- 
dure. When I get very far from home, a pecuhar and 
dreadful fear seems to come over me, my face seems to 
flush, like the blood was rushing to my head, and I feel 
as if I would die or lose consciousness. I usually start 
on a run at such times, and when it passes off I am 
usually very weak for a while. It is a terrible sensation. 
It seems to be more than ordinary fear : it seems to 
overpower me physically and mentally. ... I go to 
town now with my father, but do not feel easy. . . . 
I don't see as there is anything about the town, hill, or 
people, that causes me to fear them; it is simply some- 
thing I cannot explain, and it seems about as foolish to 
me as to other people. My reason condemns it, but 
nevertheless I can't free myself from the thoughts and 
fears caused by it." In a subsequent letter he writes: 
■^I felt much more secure and confident when walking 
near a fence or building." A patient of Professor Flech- 
sig's known to the writer, was with difficulty induced 
to walk even with assistance, because she was afraid. 
Every step taken was with lamentation and expres- 
sions of fear. The loss of attentive power occurs usually 
with loss of strength and health. The person may make 
desperate efforts to read a page, but finds it utterly im- 
possible to hold the attention so as to get the meaning. 
Aboulia. Another kind of volitional disturbance is 
ahoulia, an abnormal condition in which the patient 
wills, but the movement does not follow, to his own 
astonishment. If left to himself, he may pass entire 
days wherever he happens to be, in bed or on a chair. 



90 THE MENTAL MAN 

The case of a man is reported/ who was thus aflBicted, 
yet was mentally sound in all other respects. Some- 
times it took him two hours to undress. On one occasion 
he kept a servant standing before him for half an hour 
before he was able to take a glass of water that he had 
ordered. At such times it seemed to him '^as if another 
person had taken possession of his will.'' 

The fact that in aboulia there is ivilling hut difficult 
or no action, is to be ascribed either to the feebleness of 
the motor impulse, which converts, so to speak, the vo- 
lition into movement, or to the loss of the local sign, 
or cue to the particular act, or to a temporary partial 
paralysis of the motor region of the brain. 

This kind of a will has been called the obstructed will, 
and is typified in the normal man, who lives largely in 
the realm of thought and ideals, who considers conse- 
quences carefully, and though convinced that the world 
is out of joint, yet despairs of ever setting it aright. 
It is here that the conservative belongs, who does 
not love the old, but is incapable of deciding for the 
new; the genius of vast projects but of few deeds; the 
degenerate sinner that understands his situation, but 
seems incapable of abandoning his cup and debauch- 
ery, etc. 

Explosive Will. The other extreme, though normal 
type, is the explosive will, as it has been called, and is 
marked by quick, decisive action, due to lack of inhibi- 
tion, or to the extraordinary intensity of motor impulse. 
Those having this kind of a will do not sit in lengthy 
councils, but strike the blow. Easily aroused and hot- 
headed, they are the first to be enlisted in any movement 
1 By Pr, J, H, Bennett. 



WILL 91 

or cause, but also the first to be turned aside from their 
course. 

Lack of Inhibition. Lack of inhibition, or extraordi- 
nary motor impulse may occur in an abnormal degree. 
The person that in a flash of anger strikes before realiz- 
ing the act, we say, lost self-control, and is not unusual. 
Yet it is abnormal, when a woman, as related by a 
French writer, in a state of sadness, suddenly rises from 
a garden-bench and throws herself into a ditch full of 
water, but afterwards has no recollection of either the 
purpose or the deed.^ All sorts of unnatural impulses 
take possession of men : to kill self and others (suicidal 
and homicidal mania), to steal (kleptomania), to burn 
(pyromania), to mimic spoken words (echolalia), etc. 
Often the mind has just sufficient repressive power to 
check an impulse, but not enough to banish it from the 
mind, in which case it may linger for days and years. 

Summary. We see, then, that a sound will depends 
on several distinguishable elements that must sustain 
a definite relation and proportion to each other. The 
impulse must be of sufficient strength : neither too great 
nor too weak. It must somehow have yielded its cue 
to consciousness, and be correlated with an idea, which 
must come and be able to arouse the appropriate emo- 
tion, as the conditions of life demand. And lastly, there 
must be the power of the mind to throw itself, as it were, 
upon any idea or to embrace it in order to express and 
realize it in act; or, on the other hand, to inhibit and 
suppress any part of the mental content. In the last 
analysis any will that is not able to say effectively, / will 
so and so, cannot well be placed in the normal list. 

1 V. Ribot, op. cit. 



CHAPTER V 
HABITUATION 

Law of Habituation. In the last chapter we consid- 
ered the active aspect of hfe, which, when accompanied 
by consciousness and expressing it more or less com- 
pletely, constitutes the will. In this chapter attention is 
called to the tendency of acts to become mechanized as 
habits. This tendency is habituation, and its law is that 
when an act is once performed it is more readily accom- 
pUshed a second time, and the next time more readily 
than the second, etc., until the act becomes automatic 
or is felt as necessary, that is, until the habit is formed. 

Physical Law and Habit Contrasted. The difference 
between physical law and habit is to be noted carefully 
at the outset, especially since a number of psychologists 
have endeavored to identify them. In a sense habit is 
to nervous organization what physical law is to matter 
at large : both indicate the behavior of the organization 
and matter. But the great difference between habit and 
physical law lies not so much in their operation as in 
their history. The physical laws are not a development 
so far as we know, but are conceived as eternal properties 
of matter. There has not been a time when, e. g., under 
the same conditions Saturn would not revolve about the 
sun; or when two parts of hydrogen would not unite 
with one of oxygen to form water; or when water would 
not run down hill just as readily as now. It makes no 

92 



HABITUATION 93 

difference how many times the ball is tossed into the 
air, it will not go up or come down more easily after the 
millionth toss than before the first. Habit, on the other 
hand, implies a formative process, which is habituation, 
besides the final disposition to act in a certain way. 

Growth of Habits. Habituation is a fundamental 
character of nerve-substance, lying in its plasticity. In a 
sense, it is a sort of memory, which applies to all nervous 
discharge. A partial or general discharge in the nervous 
system tends to recur, no matter what organs or muscles 
it may affect; and when it does recur, it may be quite 
automatic. We begin with but little ability to accom- 
plish definite ends. At first bodily movements are per- 
formed with diflficulty, although they be ever so simple. 
But sooner or later, according to their complexity and 
kind, they are executed with little effort, or quite auto- 
matically. Muscular tissue at first responds but feebly 
to excitations, but gains in vigor with every successive 
stimulation, until the maximum vigor is reached. The 
new-born child has to gain not only contractile power 
of the muscles, but also coordination of muscular move- 
ments to some purpose. At first there is a general re- 
sponse to excitation, whatever its nature. Light striking 
the eyes of the new-born child, produces incoherent 
movements, not only of the eyes, but to some extent of 
the whole body. But after many responses to stimula- 
tions and spontaneous efforts in movements of the vari- 
ous muscles, the child comes into possession of the power 
to coordinate. He learns to turn his eyes upon the proper 
objects, to use arms and hands, to walk, etc. Repeated 
attempts, all successful to some extent, have not only 
given the ^^cue^' to motor control, but have also con- 



94 THE MENTAL MAN 

served in the nervous substance a tendency to respond 
in the same way again. Thus all acquired reflex action 
is nervous habit. 

Mental Habits. In Hke manner the activities of the 
mind tend to become habitual in various directions; in 
fact it is hard to conceive of extensive mental develop- 
ment without habituation. What the mind does, per- 
ceives and conceives, associates and imagines, is to some 
extent determined by habit. The milkman's horse mak- 
ing the daily rounds, becomes perfectly accustomed to 
the route, and consequently turns in at the right place 
and stops at the proper gate. The man himself performs 
a large portion of his routine work with as little thought 
as his horse. How often, when absorbed in thought and 
asked to do some chore, do we perform some other cus- 
tomary act ! The boy is requested to bring in an armful 
of wood, and perhaps he starts off in the opposite direc- 
tion for the well with the water-pail, and possibly does 
not discover his mistake until he has nearly performed 
the unintentional task. 

It will be seen later that the laws of association are a 
species of habit, viz., that what has been in the mind 
once tends to occur together again. We can scarcely 
think of a famihar house without having also appear in 
consciousness a more or less distinct image of the people 
living in the house. The kind of mental imagery em- 
ployed in our thinking is largely determined by habit, as 
will be shown more fully later. 

Our concepts and their use follow the line of habit. 
Every experience we tend to bring under the familiar 
concepts, and after a time it is almost impossible to con- 
ceive things in any other than the habitual way. There- 



i 



HABITUATION 95 

fore we may say that the mind ever tends to form for 
itself channels or grooves of behavior. Early in the 
history of science, when philosophers attempted to ex- 
plain the ultimate nature of mind, they conceived it as a 
sort of refined or attenuated matter. Later, mind was 
thought to be secretion of the brain. So also electricity 
was long conceived as a sort of a mysterious fluid, and 
even now we speak of the electric current. 

Perception is based upon past experience, and is a 
reproduction of sense-images on the occasion of experi- 
encing one or more of a group of possible sensations previ- 
ously experienced together. The orange On the table is 
seen, not merely as a colored disk, but there come also 
impressions of the spherical shape and the other side not 
seen at all, and weight, taste, and odor; i. e., together 
with the visual sensation there come also images of the 
orange as it feels in the hand and mouth, and near the 
nostrils. 

Habituation General. Habituation, then, being a fun- 
damental property of nerve-cells, is the basis of count- 
less habits affecting probably every bodily and mental 
movement or act. Habits are observable in the pecu- 
liarities and mannerisms of a person as he walks and 
talks, feels and thinks; in the way he pulls out his watch, 
eats, and attends to his work, as well as in the more 
significant moral acts of sobriety, honesty, application, 
truthfulness, self-denial, benevolence, or their opposites. 

Repetition and Habit. Definite habits are formed by 
repeated acts. Before the habit of orderHness becomes 
estabhshed, many acts are performed — in fact every oc- 
casion calling for action of this kind is used. The honest 
man is so by a Hfe of honesty. The liar has formed the 



96 THE MENTAL MAN 

characteristic habit by repeated inattention to truth and 
accuracy. 

Power of Habit. During the tnore impressionable 
years of one's hfe, habituation is most potent. The 
habits then formed become^ as it were, his ''second na- 
ture. '' In fact it may be that, as WeUington has said, 
''Habit is ten times nature. '' This is impressively de- 
picted by Victor Hugo in Javert, a character in Les 
Miserables. Javert was an officer of the law, and all his 
life he had undeviatingly carried out the requirements of 
the letter of the law. His moral horizon was bounded 
by the code, and the chief of police was, in a sense, his 
God. When, however, Javert came face to face with 
Jean Valjean, an escaped galley-slave, who came under 
the ban of the law, yet whom Javert recognized as a 
sacred being nearer angel than man, he realized, ap- 
parently for the first time in his life, that there was a law 
higher than the police-law and an authority superior to 
the chief of police. Yet Javert could not accommodate 
himself to this new insight, because there was that un- 
deviating habit of unflinching obedience to the pohce- 
law. His only escape from the dilemma he found in 
suicide. 

Habits may be Changed. Habits are hard to change. 
The tippler feels that he cannot leave his debauching 
cups, and the smoker that he cannot do without his pipe. 
Yet habituation does not apply alone to the early years, 
but extends throughout life. That means old habits may 
be modified or abandoned, and new ones may be formed 
to take their place. The propensity of even mature per- 
sons "to fall into bad ways,'' as the saying goes, is a 
well-known fact. On the other hand, it is also often the 



HABITUATION 97 

case that persons improve with age by abandoning the 
bad and cultivating more the good. 

Best Method of Getting Rid of Old Habits. It may be 
asked how we can most effectively rid ourselves of well- 
established evil habits. Should it be done by degrees 
or by a supreme effort on our part? Undoubtedly the 
radical course immediately entered upon is the most 
effective. As repeated acts have formed the habit, so 
persistent inactivity along the habitual lines, backed by 
unswerving purpose, will weaken the tendency and may 
eventually overcome it altogether. 

Role of Habituation. The role of habituation in the 
formation of character is a matter that parents and 
teachers cannot easily overestimate. From the start the 
child begins to form habits, not only those conducive to 
continued physical life, but also those suited to social, 
moral, and mental well-being. Moral character, which 
is the most valuable part of us, is a habit of willing; 
and when we say this, we have enunciated a fact ac- 
knowledged from the time of Aristotle down to be the 
most important pedagogical truth there is. It is for all 
those interested in the proper training and education of 
the young to apply this principle to the various activities 
of those entrusted to them. Habituation in the scheme 
of education as well as in pedagogics, needs a more 
prominent place than it is receiving at the present time. 

The importance of habits to the race, when transmitted 
by heredity, will be considered in another chapter. 



CHAPTER VI 
HEREDITY 

Heredity a Common Fact. Hereditary transmission 
of physical characters from parent to offspring is one 
of the plain facts of common experience. The plant and 
tree as well as the various forms of animal life repro- 
duce themselves in their descendants generation after 
generation. The general characteristics, e. g., of the oak 
of today, were the characteristics of that species a thou- 
sand years ago. The general physical and mental traits 
of the modern man were found in man before the dawn 
of history. 

Yet not only are the more palpable and essential 
characters transmitted by heredity, but also those more 
subtle and incidental. Where there has been no inter- 
mixture of the racial divisions of the human family, 
the characteristics of each race are transmitted from 
generation to generation with little variation. Even 
within any one race, we find more or less definite national 
traits that cling to the individual of that nation under 
diverse circumstances and environments. This is es- 
pecially true in communities and among peoples where 
intermarriage within a limited number of families has 
prevailed for many generations. It is this fact that ac- 
counts for the striking resemblance of one individual to 
another among the Semitic people, with respect to 

both body and mind. Furthermore, it is a fact of ex- 

98 



HEREDITY 99 

perience that trifling peculiarities, both physical and 
mental, such as birthmarks, expressions of face and 
speech, gestures and gait, the presence of extra digits, 
the tendency to synsesthesia, as explained in Chapter IX, 
as well as certain proclivities and tastes, are transmitted 
by heredity, as is evident from the fact that these pe- 
culiarities occur, even though sporadically, in certain 
families. In other words, it is heredity that acts for the 
preservation of types and races. 

Hereditary Transmission of Mental Qualities and Tend- 
encies. Before passing on, we should dwell a little on 
hereditary transmission of mental qualities and tend- 
encies. Several eminent scientists, such as Gal ton 
and Ribot, have given the matter considerable atten- 
tion. Galton has compiled lists of men of reputation, 
and grouped them into families, showing their blood- 
relationship. He has found that out of 286 English 
judges that were made the subjects of his inquiry, 109 
of them have one or more relatives of eminence. In 
like manner, he has tabulated statesmen, commanders, 
literary men, men of science, poets, musicians, painters, 
etc. The conclusions drawn from every one of these 
lists show that the ablest men had the largest number of 
able relatives; and the nearer the kinship the greater 
the chance of inheriting ability.^ 

Illustrations. In illustration of hereditary transmis- 
sion of mental characteristics, we may mention Richard 
Porson, a scholar and critic of Greek, who was gifted 
with a stupendous memory, which was a family trait, 
known as the ^^ Porson memory.^ ^ In the families of 
North, Montagu, and Sydney, — all closely related, there 

I Hereditary Genius, 1869. Reprint, 1892. 



100 THE MENTAL MAN 

is scarcely a name in ten generations that does not re- 
present a person of more than ordinary abihty. The 
Bach family was a family of musicians, founded, so to 
speak, by Veit Bach, a baker of Presburg, and also an 
amateur in singing and playing. During two centuries 
of its existence, in which it passed through eight genera- 
tions, it produced not only the great Bach, but scores 
of other musicians of excellence, chiefly organists and 
church singers, the last one being Wilhelm Friedrich 
Ernst, who was Kapellmeister to the Queen of Prussia. 
The family produced twenty-nine musicians of eminence. 
Insanity and Heredity. A study of insanity, in its 
relation to heredity, shows that the nervous condition 
favorable to insanity is greater in some families and 
races than in others. Insanity is not directly trans- 
mitted to the descendants, but these inherit an organ- 
ization that cannot endure so great a stress without 
producing insanity. Servi, in 1872, found that there 
were nearly four times as many lunatics among the Jews 
of Italy, as among an equal number of Italians, while 
Verga, two years previously, found even six times as 
many. In Germany, Mayr, in 1871, found the pro- 
portion of lunatics to every 10,000 Germans was 8.6, 
while that to the same number of Jews, was 16.1.^ In 
a Connecticut asylum eleven members of the same fam- 
ily were confined successively. Berti found, that in 
four generations of a family, descended from a melan- 
choUac, ten out of the eighty individuals were subject 
to melancholia, nineteen were neurotic, three were en- 
dowed with special ability, and three had criminal tend- 
encies. It is a well-known fact that in certain reigning 
1 Cf . Lombroso, The Man of Genius, p. 136. 



HEREDITY 101 

families of European countries insanity in various forms 
has been prevalent for many generations. A notorious 
family of this country, that has cost the state, in which 
it resided, more than a million dollars, descended from 
a man who, among other things, was a great drunkard. 
In the course of less than a century, this family inflicted 
upon society two hundred thieves and murderers; two 
hundred eighty physically decrepit individuals afflicted 
with blindness, idiocy, or consumption; ninety dissolute 
characters, and three hundred children that died pre- 
maturely. 

Heredity and Evolution. While there is no question 
about transmission of congenital characters (those pos- 
sessed at birth), the difficulty comes in accounting for 
racial change and progress, as is necessary in sustain- 
ing the general proposition of evolution — and evolution 
as a method of nature can no longer be regarded as a 
mere theory. It is evident, from the evolutionary point 
of view, that the offspring must inherit more than the 
parents inherited, else the former would end just where 
the latter did. The questions confronting us at this 
point are just what characters are transmitted, and how. 

Theories of Heredity — Lamarck's Theory. Three the- 
ories of heredity have been advanced to account for 
evolution. The first is, that besides transmitting the 
congenital characters, the parent also transmits changes 
produced in him by environment and habit acquired 
during life. For example, a primitive man, living under 
favored circumstances, finds toil and forethought un- 
necessary, because there is abundance of food about 
him that needs but to be appropriated. Furthermore, 
it is impossible, because of its perishableness, to store 



102 THE MENTAL MAN 

the food, and, because of the lack of all law and respect 
for proprietorship, to hold the food, were it gathered for 
future use. Such a man would naturally have a positive 
aversion to toil, and would exercise httle forethought. 
However, let the circumstances change. He is no longer 
in a tropical garden. He procures scanty food only after 
putting forth effort. He becomes fisher, hunter, agri- 
culturist. He must clothe himself and build his shel- 
ter. He must tend to his flocks and store the fruit of 
his labors for the long winter. He must now defend 
his rights. He acquires habits of industry, thrift, and 
thoughtfulness. During generations these acquired char- 
acteristics become fixed and transmissible by heredity 
to the offspring; and the offspring, starting with such 
congenital traits, still farther develops along that line. 
This is practically the view of Professor Lamarck, ad- 
vanced in 1792. 

Darwin's Theory. The second theory that we may 
mention, the theory advanced by Darwin, holds that 
evolution is accounted for by a natural selection of those 
congenital variations in the different individuals favor- 
ing survival, supplemented by hereditary transmission 
of acquired variations. The latter part of this theory, 
we see, is Lamarck^s. According to the first part, all 
forms of life, including man, that are best adapted to 
the environment are fittest to survive, and as a matter 
of fact do survive, while the others fail to thrive and 
finally are entirely eUminated. For example, the pres- 
ence of insects with rudimentary wings, on a mid-ocean 
island, can be accounted for on the supposition that the 
insects equipped with wings to bear them up into the 
air would be carried out by the wind onto the ocean to 



HEREDITY 103 

their destruction, while those less favored as to wings 
would be left to propagate their kind; and after count- 
less generations of such natural selection, or elimina- 
tion, a species of insects with only rudimentary wings 
would be the result — a species best fitted to survive on 
the wind-swept island. Or in the case of man, it is evi- 
dent that the industrious, ingenious, and thoughtful one 
could maintain himself better than the indolent, vshift- 
less, and unintelHgent. In other words, the man fittest 
for the environment survives, while he who is not fit 
goes to the wall. 

Weismann's Theory. The third theory, that held by 
Professor Weismann in his work of 1883,^ practically ac- 
cepts the first part of Darwin ^s theory, but denies trans- 
mission of acquired characters. According to this view 
the selection that occurs is not external, as was held 
by Darwin, but internal in the germs that produce the 
new individual. The variations that occur in succeeding 
generations are the result of new combinations of the 
germ-plasm, which is transmitted from generation to 
generation unchanged by external influences. Later, 
however, Weismann was forced to abandon the claim 
concerning the absolute stability of the germ-substance 
and to admit that congenital variations may come about 
through external causes, such as climatic changes. 

Transmission of Acquired Characters. Though the 
question of heredity is acknowledged to be an extremely 
complex one, and every one of the theories mentioned 
encounters serious difficulties, yet it may be regarded 
as settled that the facts of evolution as known point to 
definite, progressive changes, which produce new types 
1 EnUtehung der Sexualzdlen bei den Hydromedusen, 



104 THE MENTAL MAN 

of structure in succeeding generations. Furthermorej 
the fact that anomahes, or variations from the typical 
forms at birth, are observable in some individuals, lends 
support to the theory of hereditary transmission of traits 
or cJiaracters acquired by the individual. At any rate, 
neither natural selection alone nor sexual selection un- 
aided by external influences seems to be able to account 
for all the facts. The Weismannian theory seems to ex- 
plain best the constancy of general characters, and also to 
account for some advancement of the race. Natural 
selection undoubtedly helps to eliminate certain traits 
and thus assists indirectly in bringing others into prom- 
inence. Yet after all it is impossible to understand how, 
e. g., a highly complex act involving a coordination of 
various movements, such as an instinct, should be able 
to arise and progress along definite lines, unless we also 
assume that these acts were once performed with some 
inteUigence, which lapsed when the act became auto- 
matic and hereditary. Therefore, it seems reasonable to 
assume that hereditary transmission of acquired char- 
acters is a fact.^ 

If, then, hereditary transmission of individual ac- 
quired variations is a fact, then the principle of habitua- 
tion, already considered, is not only a factor in the Hfe 
of the individual, but affects certain cells, so that the 
offspring inherits the parents' habits as disposition or 
tendencies. It is perfectly natural that if the child in- 
herits a highly organized nervous system, he should also 
inherit an aptitude for its appropriate use. At any rate, 
according to this theory, a large class of emotional atti- 

1 Cf . H. F. Osborn, Present Problems in Evolution and Heredity^ 
Cartwright Lectures, 1892, 



HEREDITY 105 

tudes are explained, and certain traits, impulses, and 
instincts can be accounted for. It is hardly necessary 
to remark here that the transmission of definite states of 
consciousness, appearing in the offspring as innate ideas, 
finds no support whatsoever in facts, and should be re- 
garded as an entirely unwarranted tradition long ago 
shelved by psychologists, notably by that great English 
thinker, John Locke. 



CHAPTER VII 
IMPULSES AND INSTINCTS 

Having seen that habituation is a sort of organic 
memory which mechanizes our various activities, and 
that heredity is a kind of racial memory which transmits 
the congenital and acquired traits of the individual to 
succeeding generations, we are now better prepared to 
understand the nature of impulses and instincts. 

Old View regarding Nature of Instinct. Before the 
significance of habituation and heredity was understood 
as fully as now, the source and nature of impulses and 
instincts were a matter of considerable speculation. The 
view that was generally accepted was that instincts are 
the expressions of connate, or inborn ideas. For exam- 
ple, the bee has the instinct to build a honeycomb and 
then to fill it with honey gathered from various blossoms. 
The bee, according to this theory, has the inborn ideas of 
a hexagonal cell, the material of which it is to be made, 
the purpose of the cell, honey-bearing flowers, etc. 

Modern View. The generally accepted modern view is 
that impulses and instincts are complicated nervous re- 
ictions occurring under certain conditions or stimuli and 
coming about just as necessarily as the secretion of bile 
by the liver, or tears by the lachrymal glands. And this 
does not come about by chance, but because there has 
been transmitted by heredity an adjustment or predis- 
position in the nervous mechanism to react in definite 

106 



IMPULSES AND INSTINCTS 107 

ways, which adjustment became estabhshed through 
habitual acts during countless generations, together with 
natural and organic selection.^ Thus the discharge of an 
impulse or instinct means, in a measure, the reenactment 
of remote ancestral life. The infant but a few days old 
will clutch one's fingers placed in the palms of its hands 
so firmly, that if the fingers be raised the child will be 
drawn up and remain suspended in the air for a moment 
or two. Undoubtedly, the impulse to clutch and hold on 
was firmly established in our arboreal ancestors. 

Impulse and Instinct Compared. Impulses and in- 
stincts are fundamentally alike, namely, a motor dis- 
position of the nervous system to discharge in more or 
less definite ways on the occasion of the appropriate 
stimuli. As compared with instincts, impulses are sim- 
ple and indefinite reactions. On hearing a sudden loud 
sound we have the impulse to cry out, startle, turn, run, 
or assume a combative attitude. With a barking cur 
at our heels we can scarcely walk on without turning 
again and again. It is impossible for most people, es- 
pecially the young, to refrain from being more appre- 
hensive of danger in the dark than in daylight. While 
such impulses seem to have a purpose, they are evi- 
dently more direct yet less to the point than an instinct, 
such as the mating instinct, which shows itself in the dis- 
charge of a series of impulses not at all closely connected 
in time yet all leading to a definite end. The pluming, 
singing and calling, the strutting about of the male bird 
in the presence af the female, then the seeking of a suit- 
able building place and the constructing of a nest, the 

1 Cf . H. W. Conn's The Method of Evolution, New York and Lon- 
don, 1903, 



108 THE MENTAL MAN 

incubating and finally the care of the little nestlings- 
all these impulses are a series having essential relation to 
each other, and constituting a single instinct having for 
its end the propagation of the race to which the actors 
belong. The difference, then, between impulse and in- 
stinct lies in the complexity and not in the nature of the 
reactions. In fact, in many instances the two terms may 
be used interchangeably. 

Instinct in Animals and Man. Instinct-reactions oc- 
cur in man as well as in animals, although the best illus- 
trations of instinct may be found in animals. The charm 
and interest of nature-study is in no small measure due to 
the instincts of the various forms of animal life. We 
are immediately impressed with their fine adaptability, 
which seems to surpass even intelligence, and with their 
unerring certainty that knows no alternative. In nature 
all teeming with life, each separate form of it striving and 
struggling for the same end, viz., self-maintenance and 
the propagation of its kind, we find that each species has 
instincts peculiar to its needs. And yet, just as there is a 
continuity and relativity of life, explicable by evolution, 
so with the innumerable instincts in the species, from 
lowest to highest, there is a relativity as well as continu- 
ity that speaks unmistakably of the oneness of all life. 
Man is no exception, and not a few and not insignificant 
are the instincts that make his life what it is. 

Instinct to Live. The earliest and most potent in- 
stinctive passions and acts relate to the preservation of 
individual life. Life furnishes its own inertia for con- 
tinuance as love of life and fear of destruction. The in- 
stinct of self-preservation is a constant affirmation of Kfe, 
and is possessed by all but the lowest living creatures. 



IMPULSES AND INSTINCTS 109 

They love life and fear destruction as they love and fear 
nothing else. To take another man's life is the greatest 
offense that can be perpetrated against society, and we 
shudder at suicide as abhorrently unnatural. Men prefer 
lives of hardship and suffering to extinction on earth. 
We will endure almost all things in order to meet the 
conditions of this life, in spite of the fact that we are 
often reminded of its worthlessness and hollowness. 
From the time of the book of Job, and Hegesias, down to 
that of Hartmann and Schopenhauer, it is pointed out in 
graphic language and forcible logic that ''all is vanity,'' 
and yet there are practically no philosophical suicides. 

Racial Instinct. With the instinct to live goes the 
complementary instinct for the extension of individual 
to racial life. If the instinct of self-preservation is selfish, 
this other- instinct is getting out of self — it is altruistic. 
As the mating instinct it leads to the tenderest affections 
and holiest ties of life. The sweetest song in the forest 
and the most rapturous verse of the minstrel, the most 
self-denying, self-forgetting bravery, the loftiest chivalry, 
as well as reproduced life, owe their existence to this in- 
stinct. No wonder love is the all-absorbing theme in 
literature and the inspiration of song. As the parental 
instinct it shows itself in the extraordinary love and care 
for the offspring, and makes home the institution it is. 
In fact, the sex-instinct is so powerful, fundamental, and 
all-pervasive, that every department or aspect of life is 
influenced by it to some extent. 

Subsidiary Instincts. In these two primary instincts 
we have the mainsprings of human life and activity, and 
out of them there grow, as it were, other, subsidiary in- 
stincts. Though not so basic, some of these are in ways 



no THE MENTAL MAN 

higher and nobler, while others are disapproved by mod- 
ern standards of ethics. 

Deception. The instinct of deception, or feigning, 
primarily for the preservation and furthering of life, as 
seen in animals and insects that feign death when danger 
threatens, was perfectly honorable in the remote past, as 
the Homeric times. The ancients even made Hermes the 
god of cunning, deception, and of thieves. 

Acquisitiveness. The instinct of acquisition is stronger 
in civilized peoples than in the savage. As the squirrel 
must lay up stores for winter, so the conditions of life in 
cultured nations require ample provision for the future. 
Covetousness, greed, frugality, and stinginess are forms 
of this instinct. 

Play. The instinct to play begins in infancy and lasts 
through life, although, as a rule, the older one gets the 
weaker the instinct. Childhood days are the days of 
play; youth, of dreams and ideal projects; manhood, of 
stern duties; old age, of retrospection; but even beyond 
childhood, like a silver thread, runs the instinct toward 
the imaginary, make-believe conditions and contests, 
friendly rivalry and display of skill and strength of body 
and mind. In play the child finds an outlet for its pent- 
up energies and exercise for its powers; and in play the 
adult has recreation for mind and body. 

Imitation. The instinct of imitation, possessed by all 
to a greater or lesser extent, is particularly strong in 
childhood and the formative period of life, possibly in 
part owing to the weakness of inhibition. In the make- 
up of man there are many impulses and instincts that 
guide him in the preservation of his life — the impulses, or 
instincts to eat, exercise, etc., but in addition to these is 



IMPULSES AND INSTINCTS 111 

the instinct to imitate as a supplemental and additional 
safeguard: What others eat and drink we may eat and 
drink; what others do we may do. Often^ to be sure, imi- 
tation is mere apishness, or it may even lead to bad re- 
sults. When, however, a certain act or course in another 
is observed to be fatal to life and happiness, the in- 
stinct of imitation yields to the stronger instinct of self- 
preservation. Imitation is not only biologically im- 
portant, but it is one of the prerequisites of civiHzation. 
Without imitation there can be no extensive language, 
no customs and manners, no law, no erudition, no 
science — in short no educability. Without imitation our 
social life would be extremely primitive or, at least, ex- 
tremely individualistic. 

Inquisitiveness. Inquisitiveness is another instinct 
that man has in common with the higher animal species. 
Its lowest form is idle curiosity, but it may be so strong 
as to resemble hypnosis, especially in animals. Hunters 
•often attract their game by queer sounds, or by exposing 
bright cloths. Hindoo ''snake charmers,'' by their weird 
piping, draw the serpents from their hiding places. The 
higher form of inquisitiveness is the desire to know, to 
understand the world and hfe, not for the practical pur- 
poses to which some knowledge may be put, but for the 
satisfaction of the instinct : for the sake of truth. And it 
is due to this instinct, to ''wonder,'' as Plato calls it, that 
philosophy and the sciences have arisen and been carried 
on. Every school and apparatus of research is an ex- 
pression, at least in some measure, of this noble in- 
stinct. 

Ethical and Religious Instincts. The ethical instinct 
prompts men to view individual acts and motives in their 



112 THE MENTAL MAN 

relation to society or the world, and impels them to con- 
duct that is in accord with the larger interests. The 
religious instinct, which is perceived as a feeling of de- 
pendence, of insufficiency of self, and a fear of and love 
for a superior power, impels men to build altars, make 
images and pilgrimages, to worship and adore, and to 
''seek God, if haply they might feel after him and find 
him/^ 

Social Instinct. The social instinct impels men to 
avoid solitude and to live together in tribes and com- 
munities, and to band themselves together for defense 
and offense. Thus this instinct is the foundation of the 
state, the most powerful institution in existence, having 
disposition over property, life, and death. But these 
larger social bodies do not satisfy ; there must be, in addi- 
tion, the clique, the set, the secret society, club, lodge,- 
fraternity, guild, trade-union, to say nothing of the 
church and home as social institutions. The modern life 
of individualism, on the one hand, especially makes felt 
the need of social grouping and organization, on the 
other. 

Consciousness and Instincts. Impulse and instinct- 
reactions at first occur without consciousness, especially 
in animals and infants, but later undoubtedly they are 
accompanied by a directing consciousness. The possessor 
of an instinct is more or less clearly aware of the various 
steps in its realization, though not conscious of its pur- 
pose. The young male bird, singing and calling and dis- 
playing his plumage, does not know all is to win the af- 
fection of the female. The young bird-couple, seeking a 
suitable building place and then constructing their first 
nest, in all probability are unconscious of the purpose of 



IMPULSES AND INSTINCTS 113 

it all. Each brief and simple act is to them its own mo- 
tive and reward in the satisfaction it affords; it never 
occurs to them that the real purpose of nature is the 
maintenance and propagation of their kind. That all 
instincts, however, are modified a little by a grain of 
directing intelligence found in the life possessing it, 
should not be forgotten. 

In man instinct is greatly modified and frequently even 
checked by consciousness. We cannot predict his course 
or behavior as we can that of an animal. Human in- 
stinct appears rather as a tendency, desire or proclivity, 
than as reflex, automatic conduct, notwithstanding it 
attains its end in some of its forms as unfailingly as if it 
were completely mechanized process. 

Instinct and Reason. Instinct is clearly to be distin- 
guished from rational action. Reason adapts its act to 
the end to be attained. The end, or purpose, is clearly 
perceived, and the means chosen^ as experience may war- 
rant, for the attainment of that end. Instinct, on the 
other hand, neither is clearly conscious of an end, nor 
does it choose the means for the end.^ 

Stimuli producing Instinct-Reactions. Instinct-reac- 
tions do not occur indiscriminately, but usually only in 
response to the appropriate stimuli. These are as varied 
and numerous as the instincts or impulses. Age and 
sex, occupation and experience of the individual, cli- 
matic conditions and nature of environment in gen- 
eral, be it physical, social, moral, or intellectual — all 
these serve as stimuli to impulse and instinct-reactions. 
Therefore we find that there are instincts peculiar to 
the various periods of human life. The instincts of 

1 Cf. G. J. Romanes, Animal Intelligence^ New York, 1884, pp. 10-17. 
8 



114 THE MENTAL MAN 

childhood are not those of later life. The girFs inner 
promptings lead her to dolls^ while the boy takes to 
whips and horses and guns. It is in the spring that 
young people turn to poetry and thoughts of love. It 
is in the fall that migratory birds move southward. 
The mysterious power of large bodies of water has long 
been recognized in myth and song. Hylas is drawn into 
the water by the Naiads. The Sirens enchant with 
their song. Lorelei draws the boatman to his destruc- 
tion in the eddying stream. 

Untimely and Atavistic Instinct-Reactions. We said 
that instinct-reactions occur usually only in response to 
the appropriate stimuli. When a beaver in confinement 
begins to build a dam across the room of such objects as 
it may happen to find, or when a hen sits on pieces of 
chalkstone instead of eggs, we feel that the instinct has 
missed its mark. Instincts may be premature, as when 
a precocious child has the ambitions and feels the senti- 
ments of a mature person; or instincts are belated, when 
they appear at a later age in hfe than is usual, as when 
a full-grown person is possessed of the desire to play to 
the exclusion of work. In case an instinct appears that 
points to an earlier stage of evolution of the race, it is 
said to be atavistic. 'The love for teasing, tormenting, 
practicing cruelty on man and beast, the delight in war 
and bloodshed, in hunt and brute sport, is to some extent 
either atavistic or perverse instinct. But, no doubt, there 
is more or less of this in the modern man left to him as a 
heritage of a former time, when war, pillage, combat, and 
chase were the order of the day. The spirit of gambling, 
too, is presumably an instinct-remnant of the life of un- 
certainty in the crude occupations of our ancestors, 



IMPULSES AND INSTINCTS 115 

further accentuated by their conception of an arbitrary, 
whimsical nature and race of gods. 

The tendency to superstition and unbounded cre- 
duhty in some directions^ in spite of the conception of 
universal law reigning in the world; is to be regarded 
both as a childhood-habit and as a transmission from the 
countless generations gone before, who had not the 
modern idea of cause and effect and natural law. In 
fact the larger part of their experience was necessarily 
merely independent phenomena for them, mere chance, 
the result of crude whim of the forces of nature or of 
the spirits and gods of their environment. Song, incan- 
tation, pronouncing of the magic formula, the proper 
sign or offering by any one or by the god and nature- 
constraining priest, checked the burning fever, bound the 
sun in the sky, drew water from the flint, summoned 
the shades from Hades, and accomplished other won- 
derful and impossible things. And it will be many 
centuries yet before the race will lose this instinct to 
believe the illogical and impossible. The press of to-day 
records ev6r new and varied cases of superstition so 
utterly strange that we are almost taxed beyond our 
limit in believing even the correctness of the accounts. 
Some prophet or prophetess arises (we recognize the rel- 
atives in Bedlam) and drags forth an antique myth or 
a novel furious theory, and, lo and behold, thousands 
forthwith embrace it as divine truth. A new seer fore- 
tells a second deluge to occur at a stated time, and, 
presto! disciples congregate from distant parts of the 
world to assist in the construction of another ark and 
the collecting of a menagerie, etc. 

Perverse Instinct. Perverse instincts are also com- 



116 THE MENTAL MAN 

mon. We all have heard of '^tomboys'' and ^^ sissies/^ 
Some men have the instincts of women, and vice versa. 
The man likes to adorn himself with effeminate fineries, 
even to the extent of masquerading in woman's clothes, 
as did Lord Cornbury (a cousin of Queen Anne), who 
was once governor of New York. Often was he seen 
promenading thus attired and with the coquetry of a 
lady, on the walls of the BowUng Green fort. The 
woman — ^Hhe new woman '^ — pleases herself most in ap- 
pearing as masculine as possible, with a man's hat, shirt, 
collar, etc., and being engaged in mascuUne sport and 
occupations. She scorns a girl's schooHng, suited to 
bring out the distinctively feminine quahties; her edu- 
cation must be alongside of the boy, etc. Impulses of 
self -injury or self-destruction are widespread and com- 
mon. Men and women withdraw from the world and 
become recluses; they fast and scourge themselves and 
cast themselves under the wheels of the cart of Jugger- 
naut, or hang themselves to the beam. Two lovers, 
without apparent cause, throw themselves into the water 
to drown. A young lady, on the eve of her marriage, 
goes up to her chamber and without provocation blows 
out her brains. These seem to be cases of self-sacrifice 
for the sake of self-sacrifice, and are, in very many 
instances, directly traceable to the sexual nature. ^' Self- 
sacrifice for self-sacrifice's sake," says a specialist in 
mental pathology, ^^ whether it take the form of unsweet- 
ened tea, of monastic vows, or of a cut throat, is always 
of sexual origin, and is merely an aberrant manifesta- 
tion of the tendency to injury of self, which accompanies 
the production of offspring." ^ 

1 Charles Mercier, Sanity and Insanity, London, 1895, p. 356. 



IMPULSES AND INSTINCTS 117 

Importance of Instinct. Even from this brief revi(^w, 

the importance of instinct in man is apparent. Man^s 

reasoning power is continually emphasized and appealed 

to so that we are prone to make hght of the eariier and 

so-called ^4ower'' processes. But as instincts are earher, 

not in the scheme of evolution, but in the life of the 

individual, than some of the ^'higher" and ''nobler" 

processes, so they may be regarded as more fundamental. 

Every normal human being born brings with him, as a 

rich heritage of the countless generations that have 

gone before him, their accumulated experience stored, 

as it were, into his very make-up, which adapts him to 

his environments, and determines, in the main, life's 
course. 



CHAPTER VIII 
FEELING 

Difficulty of Definition. States of consciousness can- 
not very well be explained in words, and this is 
especially true of the affective states, called feelings, 
emotions, and sentiments. But, fortunately, every one 
knows by experience what these are. We are not con- 
cerned here particularly to define the exact meanings 
of the words (for we believe that the states for which 
they stand do not differ qualitatively), but to determine 
their nature and show their significance. However, in 
passing, it is both interesting and profitable to note 
briefly a few uses of the terms. 

Different Definitions and Views. Ordinarily the words 
sensation and feeling ^ and even knowing or thinking, 
are used synonymously, when we speak of feeling 
tired or sick, or feeling thus and so about a person or 
object, on the one hand; and feeling pain, love, peace, 
and the like, on the other. ^'AU knowledge,'' says 
Professor Dewey, ^'occurs in the medium of feeling. . . . 
There is, in other words, no consciousness, which is not 
feeling.'' ^ In the narrower sense of the word, feelings 
are regarded as the most '^subjective" or inner mental 
experience, while emotions, and particularly sensations, 
are physical, or objective. Others, again, regard feel- 
ings and emotions as two different affective states, the 

1 Psychology, New York, 1892, p. 246. 
118 



FEELING 119 

latter of which being feehng plus a general or a restricted 
or bodily excitation. Thus Kiilpe's view of the emo- 
tions and impulses is that they represent the fusion 
of sensations and feehngs.^ According to this view, 
feelings are only those mental experiences accompa- 
nying sensations and thought, which express in con- 
sciousness pain and pleasure, other differences being 
accounted for ''by changes in duration, intensity, and 
concomitant sensations/^ ^ Another view is that no 
distinction is to be made between feelings and emo- 
tions, for the qualitative difference between feehng and 
emotion is no greater than the qualitative difference be- 
tween two different emotions, or two different feelings. 
^'Substantially the same mental state, so far as dis- 
tinctions of affective quality are concerned, may be 
called simply a feeling, or an emotion, or a passion, or a 
sentiment/^ ^ We shall soon see that. this view, expressed 
by Professor Ladd, is correct. 

Nature of Feeling. The discussion of the nature of 
feeUng has of late been a psychological storm-center, and 
in order that we may clearly see just what it is, it will 
be necessary to review briefly the theories or opinions 
held in regard to the nature of feeling. 

The Common View of Feeling. There are two views 
regarding this. The first of these is that feelings are 
pure states or activities of the mind arising on the oc- 
currence of an idea. Love, hatred, anger, hope, disdain, 
etc., are spiritual states, differing essentially from sen- 
sations, which are occasioned by external stimuli. But 

1 Outlines of Psychology, London and New York, 1895, § 52, 2. 
2Kulpe. 

3 Psychology Descriptive and Explanatory, New York, 1894, 
pp. 534-535. 



120 THE MENTAL MAN 

feelings affect the body in various ways, and then we 
may note the expressions of feelings. Thus fear is fol- 
lowed by trembling, pride by strutting, anger by flushed 
face and fiery eyes. 

In its physiological aspect, the affective process arises 
in the brain on the perception of the appropriate object 
or occurrence of the idea, and extends thence to the 
periphery, and then back again to the brain. The finer, 
subtler feehngs would, according to this theory, be re- 
stricted to the brain, while in the more sensual, coarser 
emotions, the nerve-commotion extends more generally 
over the body.^ 

The James-Lange Theory. The other view is rad- 
ically opposed to the first. It contends that emotions 
and the emotional attitudes (erroneously called expres- 
sions of emotion) can only be explained genetically, 
that is, in the fight of development. To understand the 
matter, it must be approached from the standpoint of 
origin. Emotion, according to this view, does not arise 
primarily in the mind on the occasion of a definite idea 
or perception of an object, which then produces a change 
in the body that is the expression of the emotion, but 
first an object is presented; in regard to this the body 
performs certain acts or assumes certain attitudes, which 
then become reflexive and instinctive in the course of 
time. The perception of these bodily states constitutes 
the emotion. In other words, to express it in a ^^ slap- 
dash '^ manner, as James has styled his own words, ^^we 
feel sorry because we cry, angry because we strike, afraid 

1 For a strong presentation of this view, see Sherrington's The 
Integrative Action of the Nervous System, New York^ 1906, pp. 257- 
268. 



FEELING 121 

because we tremble/' rather than that '^we cry, strike, 
or tremble because we are sorry, angry, or fearful, as the 
case may be/' ^ This, in brief, is the discharge theory of 
feehngs, so first styled by Professor Dewey, but usually 
designated the James-Lange theory. 

Considerations favoring Discharge Theory. The con- 
siderations that seem to favor the discharge theory of 
emotions are many. Some of them are given below. 

Emotional attitudes are those movements and con- 
ditions of the various parts of the body invariably ac- 
companied by feeUngs of some sort or other. The 
skin, the various glands, the blood-vessels, bowels, hver, 
heart, kidneys, etc. — all undergo change under condi- 
tions. To an observer these attitudes indicate the pres- 
ence of emotion in the affected person, but. the latter 
cannot represent to himself the feelings without the atti- 
tudes. If we abstract the sensations yielded by an at- 
titude from the feehng, we have nothing or little left. 
Try to imagine fear without the trembling and confusion ! 
Or anger without the quickened heart-beat and respira- 
tion, and the dilation of the blood-vessels, as well as the 
general tension of the entire muscular system! To the 
extent that we check or inhibit the attitudes, to that 
extent do we modify or abolish the emotion. As long 
as we assume a calm, cool appearance, so long are we not 
very angry or afraid. But let us strike or run, and we 
are thoroughly angry or afraid. 

It frequently happens that a person has feelings out 
of keeping with his thoughts and surroundings. Fear 
may suddenly come upon him, or joy, or other feelings. 
It may be observed that children are often afraid of 

^Psychology, II, p. 450. 



122 THE MENTAL MAN 

persons and objects, which they know well should not 
be feared. I remember being afraid on one occasion 
of an older sister after she put on a man's rain-coat and 
hood, and had used a burnt cork on her face. My judg- 
ment, at the time, condemned my fears, for I had wit- 
nessed all the preparations of the disguise. .The case 
related of 0. G. in a former chapter (p. 88) excellently 
illustrates how fear may overpower even a mature man, 
in spite of his judgment, which condemns it as foolish 
and groundless. The insane have a variety of moods 
and emotions coming and going quite capriciously and 
unrelated to the outward events of their Hves. These 
facts can be explained satisfactorily only on the ground 
that there is a nervous discharge, either spontaneous or 
induced by some stimuli, which produce the emotional 
attitudes, hence the emotions themselves. 

Origin of Emotions. It is now necessary to show 
why certain discharges, resulting in emotional attitudes, 
take place in the normal person on the occasion of the 
appropriate object or situation. While some emotional 
attitudes cannot be accounted for by the teleological 
principle (viz., that the attitudes served some end), 
such as dryness of the mouth, and disturbance of liver 
and viscera in fear, — phenomena which Wundt accounts 
for by the principle of direct change of innervation, and 
Darwin by the principle of direct activity of the nervous 
system — it is probable that many of them, to say the 
least, were not accidental in their origin, but served 
specific purposes. Let us suppose that a primitive man 
without fear meets a bear. An encounter occurs. The 
man struggles, perspires, and finally takes to his heels. 
Again and again, through the centuries, similar expe- 



FEELING 123 

riences occur, and each time there is exertion and the at- 
tending quickened heart-beat, perspiration, turning and 
fleeing, until these things, through heredity, have be- 
come fixed as a racial tendency. Now when the bear 
appears on the scene, it suffices to discharge these in- 
herited tendencies, and the reaction occurs. Cold per- 
spiration appears, the heart beats fast, trepidation takes 
the place of the struggle, and flight carries the man far 
from the fearful object. To the man wdthout fear the 
bear is not fearful. The bear is only fearful because it 
produces a reaction, which is felt as fear. Or in anger, 
the fiery flashing of the eyes denotes rapid surveying 
of the antagonist, the accelerated beating of the heart 
means a warming up for action, the showing of the teeth 
a preparation for their use. The far-away look in the 
eyes is the attitude of longing — directing the sight to 
that which is far away. James says that 'Hhe connec- 
tion of the expression of moral and social disdain or 
dislike, especially in women, with movements having 
the perfectly definite original olfactory function, is too 
obvious for comment.^' ^ And so with other attitudes — 
originally they seem 'to have been definite acts serving 
an end, as Darwin has shown in his Expression and Emo- 
tion. Emotions, therefore, are not accidental, but have 
developed from acts performed for a purpose. Of 
course, it is difficult to demonstrate this in respect to 
all feelings, especially the finer and subtler ones. 

Tone of Feelings. While there are all shades and 
kinds of feehngs, usually they are felt as pleasant or 
unpleasant, and this constitutes the tone of the feelings. 
Tone follows its own laws, and has attributes, viz., 

lOp. cit., II, p. 482. 



124 THE MENTAL MAN 

quality, intensity, and duration. The qualities, two in 
number, are pleasantness (pleasure) and unpleasantness 
(pain), each having many discriminable shades and 
varieties. Sensations near the point where they are 
just perceived (having liminal value ),^ are usually un- 
pleasant, but as the intensity of the sensation increases, 
the unpleasantness is gradually changed to pleasantness, 
reaches its maximum value, and then becomes again 
unpleasantness, as the intensity of the sensation in- 
creases. 

Sensation, Tone, and Feeling Defined. We may, then, 
discern three closely related yet peculiar mental phases, 
each having its peculiar physiological conditions. But 
unfortunately there is yet no uniformly accepted termi- 
nology to designate each. However, we would define 
sensations to be those mental states having objective 
reference; tone, that aspect of mental life having either 
pleasant or unpleasant value; and feeling , or emotion, 
that inner experience having reference solely to the af- 
fected person, and being neither pain nor pleasure in its 
essence, though not necessarily without tone, but simply 
the quahty of being felt. Or stated in physiological 
terms : Sensation is the transmission of stimuli from the 
periphery, including the inner organs, over the afferent 
nerves to the brain, where a peculiar neurone-discharge 
takes place. Tone (pleasure-pain) arises from variation 
of the nutrition ^ or peculiar reaction ^ of the cerebral 
cortex. Feelings are the perception of ''bodily reso- 
nance, '' vaso-motor affection, or constriction or dila- 
tion of arteries. 

Have all Feelings Tone? When a feeling has tone, 
1 See p. 143. 2 Meynert, 3 Wundt. 



FEELING 125 

it is either pleasant or unpleasant, or, if the feehng is 
complex, it may be both. Since we distinguish feelings 
from tone, the question whether all feehngs have tone is 
pertinent. The answer to this is both affirmative and 
negative. Undoubtedly, in this respect there are in- 
dividual differences; we find those who affirm that all 
their feelings are either pleasant or unpleasant. On the 
other hand, others cannot detect either a pleasant or an 
unpleasant quality in some of their feelings. If this ob- 
servation be accurate, as I believe it to be, then we may 
deny the universality of tone in feelings. It is certainly 
not true that every sensation is either pleasant or un- 
pleasant, for very many are neutral in tone; and as feel- 
ings are physiologically conditioned, just as sensations 
are, it follows that emotions like sensations may be With- 
out tone. 

Again, since certain emotions, such as anger and 
hatred, are sometimes pleasant and sometimes painful, 
or since they may change from one tone to the other on 
the same occasion, similar to the tone of sensations, it is 
reasonable to expect to find a neutral emotional state in 
respect to the tone, somewhere between the two ex- 
tremes. I think introspection finds that to be the case. 

Feelings both Pleasurable and Painful. It was said 
that complex feehngs may be felt as pleasurable and 
painful. That is the case in melancholy or sadness, and 
jealousy. Normal melancholy arises from a memory of 
past days and scenes, which is pleasant in itself, and the 
reahzation that they are gone, which is painful. Jealousy 
implies love, which by itself is pleasant, and a solicitude 
for the object of love and a repugnance for the one who 
is thought a rival; which are painful. 



126 THE MENTAL MAN 

" O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; 
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock 
The meat it feeds on : that cuckold lives in bhss 
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger; 
But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er 
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves ! " ^ 

Intensity and Tone of Feelings. , In the case of the 
more pronounced feeUngs, we usually consider some as 
pleasurable and some as painful. But the intensity of 
the emotion may cause a change of the tone or intro- 
duce the other tone in addition; or if both tones be 
present already, change their proportion. Homesick- 
ness, when felt in a moderate degree, has the agreeable 
tone together with the painful, but if the case be an in- 
tense one, the latter tone is so prominent that the 
former is scarcely felt at all. Joy may turn to grief, and 
the lover ^s heart ache with love. Emotions may be- 
come so intense that their tone is the prominent element 
in consciousness, and even absorb, as it were, the very 
emotions, or claim the whole consciousness, so that if 
it is a pleasurable one, the subject is thrown into bliss- 
ful ecstacy in which he perceives the glories of another 
world. ^^It is for the soul an agony full of inexpressible 
delight, wherein it feels itself almost entirely dying to 
all the things of earth and reposes with rapture in the 
enjoyment of its God,^' writes St. Teresa about her 
ecstatic experiences. 

Intensity and Duration of Feelings. As yet no law 
has been formulated descriptive of the intensity and 
duration of feelings, except in the most general way.^ 

1 Othello, Act III, Scene III, 1. 165. 

2 Cf . Ladd, Psychology Descriptive and Explanatory, p. 173, 



FEELING 127 

The view has already been expressed that the conditions 
of feeUngs are to be sought for in the body. It is plain 
that the specific influences conditioning its states are 
beyond determination. In a general way we can say 
that they are dependent on nutrition and previous dis- 
charge of neural energy. 

Besides perceiving differences in the kinds of feelings, 
we become aware of various intensities and durations. 
Duration is an attribute of all feelings^ which is par- 
ticularly, though not altogether, dependent on the in- 
tensity of the latter. Sometimes, after the feeling has 
lost its distinctness, it fingers as a disposition to other 
emotions. Thus a feeling may throw us into a mood 
that lasts for hours and days. The effects of dreams upon 
the feelings in subsequent waking states, especially in 
the earlier years of life, is well known. Thus the feelings 
toward any person may be entirely changed and inten- 
sified for hours and days after experiencing a dream 
about such a one. 

Feeling and Associated Idea. Again, every feeling is 
or tends to be associated with some object or idea. 
Usually the association is a causal one, i. e., a feeling and 
its occasion are thought of in a causal relation, but not 
necessarily so. Often feelings come and, because of their 
vagueness, are at first associated with nothing in par- 
ticular; but the mind involuntarily seeks for a cause, 
and soon finds one. In melancholia the depression is 
usually accounted for, by the sufferer, by ascribing the 
feeling to some awful sin or calamity. He may think 
that he has committed a foul murder or the ^'unpardon- 
able sin.'' The same tendency that is found in pathology 
is present in normal life. A depressed mood, perhaps 



128 THE MENTAL MAN 

caused by indigestion, will produce a feeling of dissat- 
isfaction with our w^ork and surroundings, and some- 
times with life in general, as if the latter, instead of the 
digestive disturbance, were the cause of our depression. 
The lover esteems the charms and merits of the adored 
one and of all that is associated with her, several degrees 
beyond what cold facts will warrant. This is the, mys- 
terious power of music — whether it be from the bird 
wooing his mate; or the Trumpeter of Sakkingen love- 
trumpeting to Margaretha; or the martial strains in- 
spiring the battalions for the contest; or the mellow peal 
of the organ and chant of choir, that form such a prom- 
inent feature of religious exercises — the emotion aroused 
by the music is transferred to or associated with the con- 
comitant or nearest object or idea presented. This, too, 
is the philosophy of display of elegance and pomp that, 
to a certain extent, clothes and house and business and 
professional rank do make the man,^ in another sense 
than will be pointed out in a later chapter.^ The dim 
light and majestic arches of the cathedral go far to dis- 
pose religiously the votary within. The twilight shades, 
or the dim glow of the flickering fire are suitable for 
fairy tales and re very. It is a well-known fact that 
during times of special rehgious awakening there is also 
more love-making. In fact, that period of life marked 
with the awakening of love for the other sex, is also the 

1 The mad King Lear with reason says: 

"Through tatter'd clothes great vices do appear; 
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, 
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; 
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it." 

Act IV, So. VI. 

2 p. 168, 



FEELING 129 

period characterized by its susceptibility to religious 
influence and to the beauties and grandeur of nature. 
The lover is ever reminded of his loved one by the 
whispering spring-winds^ the creek's low song, the blos- 
soms meekly hiding in the grass, the sunset hues and the 
stars above. He who is enamored of God, ever sees 
manifestations of his love in nature, in man, and history. 
It was not mere chance that the Greek mind associated 
the Beautiful with the Good and the True. 

In general, the feelings put their impress upon the 
judgment. The young person, in the exuberance of 
feeling, holds his elders in contempt for their apparent 
resignation to the common, humdrum life, and the 
barrenness of their achievements. The maturer person, 
on the other hand, ruefully smiles in his wisdom begot- 
ten of years, as he recalls the days when he, too, with 
boundless ambition or expectation and faith, had the 
broad world before him. Now he is wiser, for he has 
diagnosed his own past with its courage, ambition, ro- 
mance, and ideals, and he pities the impressionable 
youth, who sees the world in a rosy glamour. But 
neither knows how to persuade the other to his views, 
because these are the direct expression of the person's 
emotional nature. Thus life is continually hedged about 
by emotion, like the mythical flame about Brunhilde. 

Bias of Feelings. We may speak, then, with more 
than rhetorical truth of the tricks that the feelings play 
on the judgment. And so general is this that it is hard 
to imagine the aspect of life in all its various forms, were 
the fallacious influence of the feelings removed. Prob- 
ably life without the bias of the feelings would present 
a rather prosy, mechanical, and uninteresting front — it 
9 



130 THE MENTAL MAN 

would cease to be human— yet undoubtedly one of the 
great tasks of life is to learn, to a certain extent, to think 
and act according to reason without dictation of the 
feelings. Historically the attempt to think and live 
without the bias of the feelings is represented by the 
Stoics. Logically Stoicism is admirable, yet in other 
respects it is strangely unattractive, not to say inhuman. 
Teleology of Feelings. Not all but many feelings, in 
normal beings, are teleological, i. e., either by their tone 
or by the very nature of the feelings (which resemble 
instincts in this respect) they conduce to the welfare of 
the individual and the race. Of those feehngs that are 
not teleological, it is to be said that they are either out 
of proportion to their utility, or they have just the op- 
posite value from what is expected. A toothache may 
be far more painful than something more detrimental 
to health and hfe. Some emotions, instead of being 
helpful in certain circumstances, only increase danger to 
the person. Fear, which ordinarily is useful, may oc- 
casionally unnerve and paralyze a man under circum- 
stances that demand even greater calmness, steadiness, 
and alacrity. Yet in general, pain and pleasure are 
useful in the furtherance and preservation of life. In- 
stinctively, therefore, all avoid to the best of their un- 
derstanding, unless moral or prudential motives enter, 
that which may become disagreeable to them, and by 
this avoidance further the interests of life. It is evident 
that if the tone of our feelings were reversed, so that 
what now is painful became pleasurable, no moral 
ideas on our part would be a sufficient motive to save us 
from destructive conduct. Sympathy and love, for ex- 
ample, while at times leading to complete self-negation 



FEELING 131 

and destruction, serve the perpetuity, maintenance, and 
improvement of the race, and the spiritual growth of the 
individual. 

Classification of Feelings. A satisfactory scientific 
classification of the endless number and varieties of feel- 
ings is impossible, and, in fact, is not necessary, since we 
have ^Hlie goose which lays the golden eggs'' (to use a 
figure of Professor James'), yet to call attention to some 
typical feelings that have been named, we shall present 
them in a classification made on the basis of their oc- 
casion or cause. AVe have seen the immediate cause of 
feelings to be vascular, cerebral, and visceral conditions 
and changes. But these in turn have their preconditions, 
which may be considered the first in the series and the 
mark whereby we can describe and classify the feelings. 

a. Sensuous Feelings. The most extensive feelings 
are those occasioned by simple sensations. Sensuous 
feelings and sensations are, therefore, not the same, but 
the latter come first in time. To be sure, we speak of 
sensations as being felt, but felt is, in this connection, 
used synonymously with conscious. We are conscious 
of sensations just as we are of feelings, but this con- 
sciousness discriminates between the sensation and its 
consequent emotion. Thus if the eye be turned toward 
a surface colored scarlet, there arise the consciousness 
of scarlet and an additional state of warmth and interest 
of a pleasurable kind, and this latter state is the feeling. 
In accidentally cutting one's finger, the first distinct 
consciousness is the sensation of the blade passing 
through the flesh and of the severing of the flesh-fibers; 
immediately after comes the painful feeling. 

To the sensuous feelings belong the common feelings 



132 THE MENTAL MAN 

of well-being, sickness, etc. All the organs and members 
are felt in a general way as a feeling of health, or sick- 
ness, or strength, or the like. 

The degree in which the various senses call up feel- 
ings differs somewhat. Sensations of sight are the least 
emotional. We can regard objects or surfaces and re- 
main entirely indifferent, or almost so. It is only when 
the sensation is extraordinary and of colors and out- 
lines more or less artistically arranged, that a feeling 
ensues. The same is true of sensations of hearing, but 
not to the same extent. Simple sounds are usually in- 
different to us, but when musical sounds are produced 
simultaneously and consecutively in harmonious meas- 
ures and rhythms, very intense emotions follow. The 
power of music, which is so universally acknowledged, 
as is seen by the uses to which it is put and the attention 
that it gets among all peoples and classes, is its power to 
call up emotions. The legends and literature of all 
tongues abound in illustrations of this. Besides taming 
wild beasts, 

'^ Orpheus with his lute made trees, 
And mountain tops that freeze, 
Bow themselves when he did sing.^' 

The singing of the Sirens had an irresistible charm. 
Lorelei's song made the boatman obhvious of all dan- 
ger, etc. 

Sensations of touch do not differ much from those 
already mentioned. In general, smooth surfaces passing 
over the periphery produce pleasurable feelings, while 
rough ones produce painful feelings. 

The feehngs arising from sensations of temperature 



FEELING 133 

may be either from warmth or cold. Sensations of taste 
and smell are the most subjective of all, i. e., sensations 
of these senses, and especially the latter, are not referred 
to objects, but are felt more directly as states of con- 
sciousness, and these as emotions. This is the reason 
that we can say scarcely more of smell than that the sen- 
sation is agreeable or disagreeable. 

b. Ideational Feelings. The second class of feelings 
may be called the ideational, because they follow ideas 
arising either spontaneously or by information, or dis- 
covery. Sorrow, gladness, anger, surprise, hope, curi- 
osity, etc., may come under this class of feelings. 

c. -Esthetic Feelings. The aesthetic feelings occupy a 
position midway between the sensuous and the ideational 
feelings, although some of them seem to be almost en- 
tirely sensuous and others almost entirely ideational. 
Under these come the feelings of the beautiful, the sub- 
Hme, the grand, artistic, symmetrical, the fitting, the 
congruous, and their opposites. 

As the sensuous feehngs arise spontaneously on the 
perception of the sensations, the aesthetic tastes are 
largely determined through habit, training, and sur- 
roundings. Temperament, of course, is the basic factor. 

d. Personal Feelings. The feelings arising in respect 
to self may be called personal feelings. Thus pride, 
shame, modesty, remorse, conceit, independence, self- 
satisfaction, and the ethical feelings — duty, approbation 
■and disapprobation of self, peace of mind, sinfulness, etc. 
— are to be classed among the personal feelings. 

6. Altruistic Feelings. Another class of feelings may 
be called the altruistic. They are evoked by other bcr 
ingS; either animals or men, or the ideal self or God. 



134 THE MENTAL MAN 

Here is to be mentioned the social feelings and that of 
dependence, of equahty, and of superiority; of gratitude, 
prayer, and trust; of sympathy, either as joy or suffering 
evoked by similar experiences in another being. Love, 
or affection, is altruistic, called forth by and directed 
toward living beings. The grounds for it are relation- 
ship, such as the mother for her child; congeniality, as 
the friend for friend, either of the same or opposite sex; 
worth, as man for his hero; and familiarity, as the master 
for his dog. Specially quickened religious consciousness 
comes naturally at a time in life of broadening out and 
enlargement of powers and functions both mental and 
physical. This new and intensified r.eligious feeling, 
coming as it does at times with a suddenness and in- 
tensity of a ^^new birth,'' popularly called ^^ conversion,'' 
almost always occurs between the twelfth and twentieth 
years of the person's hfe. 

Morbid Feelings. Feelings are morbid that are habit- 
ually not in accord with the rest of the mental content in 
intensity and nature. Perhaps no person is entirely free 
from occasional inharmonious mental states, yet some 
are afflicted more than others. 

Causes of Morbid Feelings. A deranged nervous sys- 
tem, or vascular or organic disturbances, may be the di- 
rect cause of morbid feelings, yet indirectly they may be 
brought about by giving undue attention to the feelings 
as such, or living a life too emotional. As the feelings 
may be cultivated in the right direction — and to see to 
that is an important function of religious teaching and 
practical ethics — they may also be mis-cultivated. 
Ennui and the blase feeling result, so to speak, from 
emotional exhaustion. Nothing can please any longer 



FEELING 135 

because the person has pursued pleasure too long and 
persistently. Every community has those to whom the 
world can afford no more pleasures. Sentimentality is 
mawkish sentiment. Nothing is more essential to man- 
hood and true culture than wholesome sentiment ; noth- 
ing more nauseating than sentiment that is ever copi- 
ously called forth by unwarranted objects and situations 
— ^that is sentimentality. 

Excessive novel-reading and theater-going, and much 
that goes under the name of religion, are fruitful sources 
of morbid feelings. To be stirred by imaginary scenes 
and situations that do not afford opportunity for action, 
yet call for it, cannot but have disturbing results upon 
our mental Hfe. The illustration of the lady shedding 
copious tears over the troubles of the hero in the play, 
while her waiting coachman is freezing outside, contains 
the point of the matter. The ^^rehgion" that puts its 
chief stress upon the feelings, as if they were the essence 
of religion, cannot but have a morbid effect. 

So it may be said in general, no matter what kind 
of a feeUng it is, if the person seeks the feehng for the 
sake of itself, rather than the object that gives rise to it, 
the result will be psychical sickness. Mental health re- 
quires that the landscape, e. g., be viewed for its own 
sake and not for the feelings it calls up; that we attend 
the funeral out of respect for the dead and sympathy for 
the friends, and not because ^^by the sadness of the 
countenance the heart is made glad; '^ that we maintain a 
harmonious attitude with our ideals and society, because 
it is a duty, and not for the happiness and peace of heart, 



CHAPTER IX 
SENSATION 

Definition. Sensation may be defined as the peculiar 
mental experience coming through the sensory neurones 
and their end-organs (eyes, ears, nose, etc.), on the occa- 
sion of external stimuh. For example, the clock strikes 
the hour and we hear the sound; or we open our eyes 
and experience sensations of color and light. 

Two Meanings of Sensation. Sensation may be con- 
sidered both as a process and a resulting state of con- 
sciousness. As a process it presents itself as a phys- 
iological problem. In psychology sensation as a state 
of consciousness has the chief interest for us, and yet 
it is here more than perhaps anywhere else, that we are 
confronted with the physiological conditions. 

Sensory Neurones and their End-Organs. Impressions 
from the physical world — including those from the body 
— are transmitted to the cortex of the brain through 
sensory neurones of the first and higher orders after hav- 
ing been received by means of specific organs of sense, 
all of which were described in Chapter II. In very simple 
life, where there are found the mere rudiments of a 
nervous system, the so-called superficial cell is affected 
by many kinds of stimuli of sufficient intensity, but as we 
ascend in the scale of life, functions of various kinds 
are differentiated. Those cells that are especially sen- 
sitive to a particular stimulus have become so m.odified 

136 



SENSATION 137 

through a long process as to be susceptible only to 
that particular kind of stimulus. In man we find a 
certain number of peripheral sense-organs, already de- 
scribed, each capable of receiving only a definite impres- 
sion from a definite stimulus. The eye is affected only 
by Hght-vibrations, the ear only by sound-vibrations, 
etc. If we are able to irritate any sense-organ by 
means other than the natural, as e. g., electricity, the 
conscious effect will be entirely determined by the par- 
ticular organ, and not by the nature of the irritant. 
Thus an electric current applied to the tongue will be 
felt as a sensation of taste; apphed to the eye, as light 
(color); to the ear, as sound, etc. When a so-called cold- 
point in the skin is stimulated, be it with the point of a 
pencil, an electric current, or an icicle, the resulting sen- 
sation will be of cold. 

Sensations Classified. A classification of sensations is, 
therefore, a simple matter, it being effected on the basis 
of the sense-organs through which the sensations are 
aroused and the nature of the physical stimuli. Yet it is 
to be remarked that no sensation is ever experienced that 
is purely of one kind. The sensations that we ordinarily 
ascribe to taste really include smell and touch. Sensa- 
tions of sight are blended with the muscular sensations 
arising from the adjustment and control of the eye. 
Sensations of touch do not occur without sensations of 
temperature, etc. Nevertheless, we easily discriminate 
sensations of touch (pressure), sight, hearing, taste, 
smell, temperature, and muscular and joint sensations. 

Smell. Sensations of smell are usually occasioned by 
bodies that give off particles of substance in gaseous 
form^ which come in contact with the olfactory nerves, 



138 THE MENTAL MAN 

located in the nasal cavity. The sense of smell is more 
highly developed in the dark-colored races than in the 
white and civilized races, and it differs greatly in different 
white individuals. 

Taste. Sensations of taste arise from contact of tast- 
able substances with the gustatory bulbs, located in the 
tongue and the posterior portions of the palate. There 
are four kinds of tastes, viz., sweet, bitter, sour, and 
salt. 

Touch and Temperature. Sensations of the skin are 
those of pressure and of temperature. In common ex- 
perience these two kinds of sensation are both derived 
through one organ (viz., the skin), yet experiment has 
revealed the fact that the skin has both so-called pressure- 
spots and temperature-spots, which respectively yield the 
sensations of touch, or Hght pressure, and those of tem- 
perature. Temperature-spots are both those of heat and 
cold. The heat-spots respond only to heat-vibrations, 
and cold-spots only to cold. Experimenters have care- 
fully mapped out the different areas of the skin as re- 
gards the pressure-spots, and heat and cold-spots. 

Muscular and Joint-Sensations. Then there are mus- 
cular sensations, which arise through the nerve-fibrils 
found connected with muscular tissue, when the various 
muscles are used; and sensations of the joints, arising 
through the nerves found about the joints, in case of 
movements and mere position of the various parts of the 
body. 

Sound. Sensations of sound are produced by sound- 
vibrations stimulating the inner ear, in which are lo- 
cated the nervous end-organs of hearing, notably the so- 
called '^ organ of Corti," consisting of a membrane iij 



SENSATION 139 

which are strung numerous fibers. Sounds are of two 
kinds, — musical sounds and noises. Musical sounds are 
produced by bodies vibrating rapidly, continuously, and 
isochronously; and their characteristics are pitch, in- 
tensity, and quaUty, or timbre. A noise is produced by a 
mixture of many varieties of vibrations bearing no rela- 
tion to each other. It seems also that sensations of 
bodily balance or equilibrium arise in the semicircular 
canals of the ears. At any rate, disease or an operation 
in these parts may temporarily impair the power to 
maintain bodily equilibrium. 

Sight. Sensations of sight (light and color) are pro- 
duced by light-waves impinging upon the retina of the 
eye, where certain photo-chemical changes take place, 
affecting the so-called ^^rods'' and ^^ cones. ^^ The nerv- 
ous excitations produced by the Hght are conducted to 
the brain by the optic nerve. We are able to discriminate 
many degrees of hght, varying from white to black, and 
thousands of different shades and qualities of color. 
Nevertheless, there are but six fundamental color- 
sensations, viz., green, red, blue, yellow, white, and 
black. When two colors combined produce white, they 
are called complementary colors. The colors found in 
the opposite sections of Figure 9, are complementary 
colors. When any object or scene is looked at for about 
one third of a second, and then the eyes be closed sud- 
denly, an after-image of it may be seen. If the object is 
colored, e. g., red, and is exposed to our eyes for a longer 
time, and then be removed, we may see an after-image in 
bluish green, which is the complementary color of red. 
Some persons are color-blind to certain colors, such as 
red, green, and violet. In total color-blindness the differ- 



140 THE MENTAL MAN 

ent colors^ outside of white and blacky are discriminated 
as different shades of gray. 

Similarity and Difference. Within the Hmits of each 
class, the sensations are felt to have similarity, while the 
different classes are felt to be radically unlike. Sweet 
and bitter seem opposed to each other in quality, and 
yet there is an indescribable something common to these 
sensations so that they are comparable. But, excepting 
spatiahty and externahty, a sensation of one group is not 
even comparable with that of another. For instance, 
there is no comparison between blue and sweety or the 
odor of a rose and the sound of a voice. We feel the in- 
congruity of even the suggestion of a comparison, so re- 
mote in quality are these sensations. 

Different Sensations Associated. To be sure there are 
associations, in consciousness, of things ever so remote. 
Green and sour are absolutely different as sensations., and 
yet we say that a fruit tastes green, meaning sour, be- 
cause it is a frequent occurrence that a fruit is green and 
sour at the same time. Painters speak of warm and cold 
colors, meaning the quaUty that colors show in the warm 
sunlight as distinguished from those in the shade. 

Association Based on Functional Relationship. But 
associations resulting from contiguity in space and time 
do not explain all associations of different sensations. 
For instance, why do we speak of a sweet smell, face, or 
voice? Undoubtedly because of the sameness of the 
emotional tone which these disparate sensations arouse. 
The mind tends to associate similar states of conscious- 
ness and consequently also the objects and attributes 
that arouse them.^ 

1 Cf. p. 190 ff. 



SENSATION 



141 



GREEN 



YELLOWISH 
GREEN 



BLUISH 
GREEN 



YELLOW 



CYAN BLUE 



WHITE 



ORANGE 



ULTRAMARINE 
BLUE 



RED 



VIOLET 



PURPLE 



Fig. 9 . 

Diagram Showing Complementary Colors in Opposite 

Sections 



142 THE MENTAL MAN 

Synaesthesia. A closer relation of sensations, such as 
we find in persons for whom a sound, for example, will 
call up a color (photism), or a color call up a sound 
(phonism), is designated syncesthesia, Synsesthesia ap- 
pears variously. In the case of a student, different 
words appeared to him in different colors. Monday, 
e. g., appeared green. In another subject, which has 
been reported, sounds and smells are yellow, excepting 
thunder, which is black. With her and two sisters,^ also 
subjects of synsesthesia, the letters of the alphabet, days, 
months, some proper names, etc., had each its color. 
This cannot be explained by ordinary associations, but 
points to an organic or functional relationship, as we 
have already seen. It may be taken even to substantiate 
the view that different sensations are simply differentia- 
tions of a simple original and homogeneous sensation, 
which we must accept along with the theory of evolu- 
tion. For the lower the animal life, the fewer and sim- 
pler the sense-organs; until a point is reached, as in the 
amoeba, where no traces even of any differentiated sense- 
organs can be seen. The sensation here, as well as the 
original sensation of primeval Hfe, is not any one of our 
senses, but, for us, some incomprehensible sensation — 
'^one palpitating homogeneous mass of consciousness, 
with no breach of continuity of kind or number, but 
simply expanding and contracting in intensity,'' as 
Professor Dewey describes it, from which all the present 
sensations have been derived,^ 

1 It is an interesing fact, as Galton has pointed out in his 7n- 
quiries into Human Faculty that synsesthesia has a hereditary 
tendency. 

^Psychology, New York, 1892, p. 34. 



SENSATION 143 

Intensity and Quality of Sensations. Different sensa- 
tions are distinguished not only by their quality, but also 
by their intensity. A sensation, e. g., a sound of a fixed 
quality may become louder or softer, varying between 
the lowest limit of perceptible intensity to that of the 
highest. When a sensation is of the lowest perceptible 
intensity, it is said to have threshold or liminal value. 
If the stimulus is decreased, the sensation will disappear 
entirely. 

Measurement of Sensations. The intensity of sensa- 
tions cannot be measured by a fixed standard as we can 
measure physical phenomena. Extension, volume, and 
weight are measured by arbitrary, fixed measures, such 
as the meter, liter, and gram; electrical force, resistance, 
strength, and quantity are expressed in measures of 
volts, ohms, amperes, coulombs, etc. However, it is 
impossible to devise and apply a unit of measure of 
sensation. All that can be said of sensations, besides 
differences in quality, is that one is greater or smaller 
than another, or of the same intensity. The degree of 
likeness or difference in intensity is expressed entirely by 
comparison. We can only say, e. g., that the report of a 
cannon is very much louder than that of a pistol, or that 
the moon is much paler than the sun. 

Personal Element. If physical stimuli of a given in- 
tensity always produced sensations of a constant in- 
tensity, we could fix upon a certain one as the unit or 
standard of measurement, but that is by no means the 
case. The light that seems moderate to one person, may 
be painfully intense to another whose eyes are more 
sensitive. The sound- vibrations that at one time arouse 
a normal sensation, at another may be felt as intolerably 



144 THE MENTAL MAN 

intense — all depending, on the one hand, on the condi- 
tion of the nervous system, known as its sensibility. 
Naturally this condition is ever varying more or less 
with the changes of nervous energy, fatigue, and nutri- 
tion of the individual. On the other hand, what im- 
pression a certain stimulus will produce, depends, in a 
great measure, on the other stimuli that occur at the 
same time or immediately before. The stars and north- 
ern lights that shine and gleam in the darkness, fade 
with the approach of dawn. In the night sounds reach 
our ears that cannot be heard in the noisier part of day. 
We hear every stirring wind, the ticking of our watches, 
the drilling even of the worm in the beams of the wall, 
while in the din of the mill or the roar of the cataract we 
scarce can hear any other sound. 

Weber's Law. The law involved in facts of this kind, 
accurately determined experimentally, was first^ formu- 
lated by E. H. Weber. It declared that in order to pro- 
duce a just perceptible increase of sensation, the increase 
of stimulus must be a constant proportion of the stimu- 
lus. The proportion is different for the various kinds of 
sensations and their stimuU, and holds only between cer- 
tain limits. After a certain intensity in sensation has 
been reached, a much greater increase of stimulus is nec- 
essary to produce a perceptible increase of sensation, and 
finally, when sensation is the strongest possible, no in- 
crease in stimulus, however great, will cause a greater in- 
tensity of sensation. Weber, in conducting experiments 
in sensations of pressure, placed a weight upon the hand. 
He found that this weight had to be increased by one 
third before a difference of pressure was felt. If, how- 
ever, the hand was raised with the weight on it, as we do 



SENSATION 145 

in hefting, he found that the weight had to be increased 
by only one seventeenth. Numerous experiments seem to 
show that in sensations of pressure, warmth, and sound, 
an increase of one third of the original stimulus is neces- 
sary to produce a perceptible increase of sensation; in 
muscular sensation, one seventeenth; and in light, one 
hundredth.^ Fechner reformulated the law — which he 
himself called ''Weber's Law'' — saying that the sensa- 
tion varies as the logarithm of the stimulus. However, 
tliis formulation has not been satisfactory to all psy- 
chologists. 

Interpretations of Weber's Law. Weber's law admits 
of three different interpretations, known as the physi- 
ological, psycho-physical, and psychological explana- 
tions. The first of these is, that the law expresses the 
relation that obtains between the objective stimulus and 
the nervous action, which means that the physical stimu- 
lus increases more rapidly than the nerve-action, yet 
that the sensation varies directly as the neural change. 
The psycho-physical interpretation holds that the law 
expresses the proportion of the nervous action to the 
mental changes, and not the proportion between stimulus 
and the nervous activity. The psychological explanation 
maintains that the law merely expresses the discrimina- 
tive power of the mind in relation to the apperceived 
sensations. 

Relation of Intensity and Quality. But the intensity 
of sensation, furthermore, stands in intimate relation 
with the quality of sensations, with pleasure-pain, and 
with perception. While, generally, the intensity of a 

^ According to some experiments, as those of Merkel, for passive 
touch, 1/13; active touch, 1/19; white Ught, 1/100; red Ught, 1/14. 
10 



146 THE MENTAL MAN 

sensation may vary without affecting the quality, that is 
by no means always the case. If warmth be decreased, 
the resulting sensation of cold is different qualitatively. 
A burning heat differs in quality from a comfortable 
warmth. The sensation from a faint whiff of musk dif- 
fers from the sensation when smelling it directly from the 
bottle. 

Intensity and Pleasure-Pain. The intensity of sensa- 
tion has direct relation to pleasure-pain. A stimulus that 
arouses a pleasant sensation when of a moderate in- 
tensity, may be unpleasant or painful when very intense 
or weak. A sensation near the threshold is, as a rule, an 
irritating one. A slight touch is ticklish; a scarcely 
audible sound, or scarcely visible object is exasperating, 
perhaps because of the uncertainty in which it leaves the 
mind. An increase of the sensation — if its quality is not 
unpleasant — changes the pain to pleasure, which in- 
creases until an intensity is reached, where the pleasure 
diminishes till it is changed to pain again. Thus intense 
light and sound are painful. The sensations that are 
disagreeable when of medium intensity, form an excep- 
tion to the rule that sensations near the threshold are 
painful. A smell or taste disagreeable when of moderate 
intensity, is very often pleasant when quite weak. 

Intensity of Sensation, and Knowledge. Finally, the 
cognitive aspect is affected by the intensity of the sensa- 
tion. Sensations have been called the elements of knowl- 
edge, because through them we are acquainted definitely 
with the world outside of us. But sensations also have 
an affective phase, the tone of which, as we shall see, may 
be pain or pleasure. Now the more intense the sensation, 
after a certain point, the greater the feehng of pleasure 



SENSATION 147 

or pain, but the less the cognition. As our ^'coolest" 
thinking is Hable to be the most logical, so the '^coolest" 
sensation is apt to permit the most exact perception. 
We seem to be able to follow the thought of the speaker 
more easily when he is using moderate tones than when 
he is shouting his words. This, in part, explains the 
tendency to abandon intense colors in dress and paint- 
ings and buildings. For being relieved of the color- 
effects, consciousness may attend more completely to the 
outlines and meaning. 

Local Signs. All sensations, especially those of touch, 
possess a quality that serves as an indication where our 
body was stimulated. With regard to the sensations of 
smell and taste, we locate them in the nose and mouth. 
The local sign is not so pronounced with regard to hear- 
ing; i. e., we do not have such a definite sensation of lo- 
cation in the body as we do of location of the external 
stimuli. Local signs are especially definite from stim- 
ulations of the skin, muscles, and joints. We know what 
muscle or joint is moved. We know just where the skin 
itches or is touched. E. H. Weber was the first to deter- 
mine experimentally the discriminating sense of loca- 
tion of the different areas of the skin. The problem was 
how far apart must two points touching the skin be in 
order to be felt as two points. He took a pair of blunted 
compasses and gently applied the points to the skin 
or tongue, and he found that the minimum distance 
varied greatly. On the tip of the tongue the separation 
of the compass points had to be but one mm., while on 
the middle of the back and upper arm and leg, it had 
to be sixty-eight mm. Furthermore, the experiments 
on both sets of limbs showed that the discrimination is 



148 THE MENTAL MAN 

acuter in transverse direction than in the longitudinal. 
Other variations were noticed that are explained on the 
assumption of oblong ''sensation circles'' extending over 
the whole body. Each circle was supposed to be the 
area in which there was a single nerve-fiber, and if the 
points of the compass touched only one area, they would 
be felt as one point. But subsequent experiments have 
shown that practice reduces the sensation circles con- 
siderably. 

Characteristic of Sensation — Spatiality and External- 
ity. It is the distinguishing characteristic of sensation 
to have reference to the world lying outside of con- 
sciousness. In this respect it stands in marked contrast 
to other forms of mental experiences, such as feeling, 
wilhng, and thinking. The sound we hear is referred to 
an outward source, while the pleasure which the sound 
occasions, is more likely to be felt as my own and within 
me. I will to move the pen in my fingers. The move- 
ments that I see and the muscular, joint, and contact- 
sensations that I feel, are localized somewhere before 
me and outside of the mind, while it is /, my innermost 
self that wills. In short, all sensations, at least the pro- 
nounced ones, contain the sense of the spatial and ex- 
ternal.^ ' 

Volume. Various sensations also yield an impression 
of volume, to a certain extent. This is true, not only 
of touch, but of sensations of hearing and sight. A loud, 
low sound is palpably big, while the high sound is small. 
The sound of some grass-insect that I have heard, was so 
exceedingly high and piercing as to remind me of a very 
fine wire or needle. The luminous portion of the new 
1 Cf. James, Stumpf, Ward. 



SENSATION 149 

moon appears to have a much larger radius than that of 
the portion faintly illumined by earth-shine. An ob- 
ject, e. g., a door-knob, or a sheet of paper, seems smaller 
when viewed with one eye than with both eyes, as was 
pointed out by Hyslop. 

Hence, it is through sensation that the idea of an ob- 
jective world arises, or as we commonly put it, it is 
through sensation that we know the world. Any object 
is for us the sum of the sensations which we have in re- 
spect to it. Without sensations, so far as we can under- 
stand, the world would be absolutely non-existent for us. 

Sensations without External Stimuli. Sensations may 
occur at times, in a healthy mind, and frequently in 
a diseased one, without external stimuli. The insane 
hear sounds and see lights; they smell odors and have 
tastes that probably exist entirely in their minds, i. e., 
exist without being stimulated externally to the brain. 
It is these sensations, undoubtedly, that are the nucleus, 
so to speak, of many illusions and hallucinations, which 
afflict the insane, A certain patient coming under my 
observation thought that his chair and furniture and 
food had been charged with electricity. He com- 
plained of the foul smelling and tasting substances that 
he thought had been mixed into his food, etc. 

How Objects produce Sensation. How objects are 
able to bring about sensations, is an old problem of 
philosophy. The earliest view deserving attention — 
that of Democritus — was that all objects are continually 
sending forth effluences or exact images of themselves, 
which entering the sense-organs are there perceived as 
they really are. The common-sense view, similar to that 
of Democritus, believes that we somehow look directly 



150 THE MENTAL MAN 

upon objects and see them as they are. The other view, 
which came to the front, especially through ''modern 
criticism/' is that the physical world reacting on the 
sense-organs and the brain arouses in the mind a unique 
thing, viz., sensation. The sensation is anything but a 
copy of the external quality. Science has been able to 
determine the nature of many of the physical stimuli. 
Thus physical sound, light, and heat are found to be 
various kinds of vibrations. But whatever the activ- 
ities of an object may be, they are able to affect the 
periphery so that sensory stimuli proceed to the cortex 
of the brain. What the exact nature of an afferent 
stimulus is, is largely a hypothetical matter,^ but it 
probably consists of neurone-discharge that proceeds to 
the cortex. How neurone-discharge finally results in 
consciousness, will, undoubtedly, remain a mystery, yet 
this much is certain, that the discharge is not conscious- 
ness, nor is converted into consciousness. 

1 "The physiologists have been struggHng for fifty years or more 
to gain an insight into the nature of what they call nerve-impulses, 
by which is to be understood the occurrences inside axones — for 
example, at the time when we have good reason to believe that 
they are functionally extraordinarily active. Their efforts have 
supplied us with a multitude of data, physical and chemical, in- 
teresting enough, no doubt, but which can serve as only the barest 
prolegomena to an explanation of the essence of the occurrences. 
If we are so badly informed concerning these elementary and fun- 
damental phenomena we may very well be content to be modest 
for some time to come in our claims as regards a physiological 
psychology."— Barker, The Nervous System, 1899, p. 249. 



CHAPTER X 
FUSION AND DISCRIMINATION 

Divisibility of the World. To common-sense the world 
about us seems composed, not only of many objects, 
but each object of many parts; and when the thought 
is followed out, we come to the same conception as that 
held by Anaxagoras, or better, Democritus, the first 
important expositor of atomism. The matter; of which 
things are composed, is divisible and re-divisible until 
we get to the atom, the ultimate indivisible.^ Further- 
more, physics clearly demonstrates that this divisible 
world is impressed upon the senses by means of various 
kinds of vibrations of sufficient number and intensity. 
For example, one or even thirty vibrations per second 
of a tuning-fork cannot be heard, yet if there are thirty- 
two or more, we hear a sound. 

Fusion. The natural conclusion has been that in 
knowing the world in its various forms and aspects, the 
mind performs acts of synthesis, fusion, association, or 
whatever other name may be given to the process. A 
simple sensation is the result of a multitude of separate 
and successive vibrations. Not only are the separate 
vibrations fused into sensation, but the sensations suc- 
cessive, so to speak, in time and space, are fused into 

1 This is not the chemical atom, but the physical, or better, 
metaphysical. Since the discovery of radium, we read of the dis- 
Jlitegration of the atom, — evidently the chemical. 

151 



152 THE MENTAL MAN 

*' sensible totals/' such as a long sound, or a large ceiling. 
The parts which make up a thing must be combined, 
or else we would never know the thing, but simply 
the component parts. Still more, as will be seen, in 
the chapter on Perception, various heterogeneous sense- 
impressions are fused into objects possessing various 
qualities and properties. Somewhere and somehow in 
man there goes on a fusing activity involved in sensation, 
perception, and knowing. As James says, ''psychology 
must be writ both in synthetic and analytic terms.'' 
But the synthetic processes that knowing presupposes 
logically are evidently acts occurring beneath the thresh- 
old of consciousness. For at no time are we conscious 
of any kind of combining or fusing, notwithstanding 
that nothing is more certain than that fusion does 
take place. Kant made consciousness itself a synthesis 
springing out of ''a blind yet necessary function of the 
soul, without which we would have no knowledge, but 
of which we seldom become conscious even once." ^ 
Therefore, what fusion that occurs unconsciously is in 
terms of consciousness, is beyond description. Yet this 
like all other unconscious processes, as already ex- 
plained,^ finds its physiological explanation in brain- 
processes sub limine. The principle of fusion may be 
stated thus: Impressions occurring together or succes- 
sively in consciousness produce or tend to produce a 
mental total. 

Things First Known as Wholes. But to speak of 

fusion at this time is justified on logical rather than 

psychological grounds, and is, in a sense, putting the 

cart before the horse. The fact so forcibly presented by 

^Kritik, p. 78. 2Pp. 26, 67. 



FUSION AND DISCRIMINATION 153 

James, that we know things as wholes, is, without doubt, 
true. As stated, we do not consciously fuse vibrations 
into sensations, nor construct out of small areas, per- 
ceived successively, the larger space, nor combine va- 
rious kinds of sensations experienced in the past with 
present sensations into external objects. If it were true 
that we performed acts of combination consciously, it 
would follow that in our earliest years the landscape 
would be seen as a more or less detached thing, or the 
man as eyes, hands, head, fingers, etc., and not as a man; 
and that with the development of the synthetic faculty, 
the unitary character of the landscape or man would 
grow. But exactly the opposite is the plain fact of con- 
sciousness. The landscape is seen as one, the orchestral 
production of fifty or sixty different instruments is 
heard as an artistic whole, and the older and more dis- 
criminating we grow the more details or parts we are 
able to discern. Only after we have discriminated, how- 
ever little it may be, can we properly speak of conscious 
association, or fusion. 

Earliest Experience Undiscriminated. The earliest 
mental experience of the infant must be undifferentiated 
sensations, meaningless ^^ sensible totals.'' Although, for 
the adult, consciousness must have* content, i. e., it 
must be pain, or warmth, or color, or something else; 
yet for the infant without the power to suppress portions 
of his mental excitation and to maintain others, as is 
done in attention, the content of consciousness may be 
said to be neither pain, nor warmth, nor anything else 
in particular, and yet be all of them. In other words, 
the most primary consciousness has undiscriminated 
content. 



154 THE MENTAL MAN 

Attention and Discrimination. However, as soon as 
there is attention, which is a singhng out of parts of the 
stream of consciousness, then there is discrimination. 
It is difficult to conceive attention without some degree 
of discrimination, and certainly discrimination is in- 
variably of something toward which the mind has 
turned. Undoubtedly most of us have been in a room 
in which many different sounds were blended, when 
suddenly we wondered whether the clock was still going, 
and we listened for its ticking. Sometimes it takes con- 
siderable time to single out this sound, but when the ear 
has once caught it, it seems quite distinct. As all the 
sounds were simultaneous and more or less constant, 
and the mind and ear attentive, it may be asked why 
there was not the particular discrimination immediately. 
It is because attention at first occurred without the nec- 
essary intellect. Attention is the volitional aspect of 
consciousness, while discrimination is the intellectual 
aspect of the same act. Attention intellectualized is dis- 
crimination. 

Discrimination is Analytic. Discrimination is an ana- 
lytic process through which the mind knows differences 
in the world and is enabled to form concepts, as will be 
explained in another chapter. As involuntary attention 
is called up by the particular character of the stimulus, 
so it is the latter that arouses the sense of this and that 
or apartness. Objectively, discrimination implies dif- 
ferences in objects, and subjectively, differences and 
changes in the affections of the mind. 

Discrimination comes with Experience. Nothing seems 
plainer than that the world about us is full of differ- 
ences in shapes, colors, sounds, etc., and that to have 



FUSION AND DISCRIMINATION 155 

any consciousness of things at all implies discrimina- 
tion. The triangle is not the circle; blue is not red; 
nor is the odor of a rose its color. However, to an in- 
fant, or even an older child the matter undoubtedly 
does not seem so self-evident. The utter inability of a 
young child to copy the simplest geometrical figure in- 
dicates not only a lack of muscular and motor control, 
but also an absence of adequate discrimination. The 
impressions on the child are as totals. The whiteness 
and warmth and flavor of the milk he drinks are all 
one and not three different qualities. And how many 
adults are conscious of sweet and sour when drinking 
lemonade? The rule is that different qualities experi- 
enced together remain undiscriminated until experienced 
apart. 

Variableness of Things Help to Discrimination. The 
great help to discrimination is the variableness of things. 
Different qualities are in different combinations. The 
rose we smell is not always red, nor is the rose-red always 
a rose. Experience teaches that both the color and the 
odor of any variety of roses are found in different com- 
binations. The scent may be in a perfume bottle and 
the color on a barn. Or take a piece of iron; it is blue- 
black and cold. Polished, it becomes bright as silver- 
In the fire, it turns red and even white-hot. But in these 
different conditions it is conceived as the same piece of 
iron. We have here learned, if not before, that the color 
and temperature are not the metal — we have discrimi- 
nated, abstracted, in fact have performed a process of 
conception. 

Experimentation Help to Discrimination. For ordi- 
nary discrimination the natural changes in nature and 



156 THE MENTAL MAN 

in the common pursuits of life suffice, but for the more 
accurate scientific purposes, special conditions for ob- 
servation have to be brought about, in which there are 
combinations and separations of elements not usually 
found. This is one great purpose of laboratory experi- 
mentation. 

Ability to Discriminate. The ability to discriminate 
varies greatly in different individuals. Of great impor- 
tance, in this respect, is training of the senses and of 
attention. One who has never learned to attend thor- 
oughly through the different senses cannot hope to dis- 
criminate finely. The scientist Agassiz was wont to let 
would-be naturalists that placed themselves under his 
tutelage look at a certain object, e. g., a fish, for days 
and weeks, until the pupils had noted every relation and 
peculiarity. It was a lesson in attention and discrimina- 
tion, the sine qua non of the efficient naturalist. Some 
persons, however, can never learn to discriminate in cer- 
tain directions. Some have no ear for music, i. e., they 
can discriminate tones very poorly or not at all, and so 
their attempts at singing are in monotones. Others are 
color-blind, either entirely or in part ; more common are 
those to whom red and green look alike. When one is 
entirely color-blind, he sees all objects in lights and 
shades only. 

Instantaneous Discrimination. It has been a matter 
of interest to experimenters to determine accurately how 
many objects or impressions could be grasped mentally 
at once and together, and the mind still be conscious of 
their separateness. Four to fifteen short perpendicular 
lines were displayed for one hundredth of a second, and 
different persons were asked to state the number dis- 



FUSION AND DISCRIMINATION 157 

played.^ The results of these and other experiments 
show that the average person can discern only four to 
seven visual impressions instantly. When the objects 
displayed were letters and formed familiar words, three 
times as many were discerned as when the letters were 
not ordered into words. In respect to sound-impressions, 
experiments performed in Clark University have demon- 
strated that eight to ten clicks produced in quick suc- 
cession is the maximum limit of discrimination. 

Summary. To sum up, then, mind primarily implies 
an activity that integrates, or presents impressions as 
wholes. The physical events or objects may be analyzed 
as many, and the mental elements as different, yet the 
impression felt or seen in consciousness is as one. What- 
ever name be applied to this activity, be it synthesis, 
fusion, or association, the content of each moment's 
consciousness is perceived primarily as a totality. The 
landscape is one, the man is one, the horse and rider are 
one as much as the centaur is one. Yet this totality is 
analyzable as soon as the mind perceives differences and 
parts. This is discrimination, which begins very early 
in life, and develops according to the nature of the per- 
son and his mental appHcation. The mind discriminates 
whenever it attends with intelligence. 

1 Professor Cattell. 



CHAPTER XI 
PERCEPTION 

Sensation before Perception. From the time that 
consciousness begins in an individual, he commences to 
acquire experiences by way of sensations. The first few 
years of the infant's Hfe are required almost exclusively 
for experiencing sensations of various kinds, which, so to 
speak, constitute the raw material of the objective world. 
And the child is so constituted and, we might add, so 
limited in mind that at first his interests lie wholly in 
mere sensations. He delights to touch, see, hear, taste, 
and handle objects, and to move his limbs, and use his 
vocal organs, irrespective of their larger significance and 
value. 

Sensations Experienced in Groups — Basis and Meaning 
of Perception. While there is no systematic effort made, 
either by the child or those having charge of him, to 
bring about these elementary experiences in any definite 
order, yet since the world is one of fixed order and not of 
chaos, sensations are experienced in certain combina- 
tions and relations. Now it is evident that those that 
are experienced very frequently in more or less fixed re- 
lations, in the midst of a mass of changing other sensa- 
tions, become for consciousness a unity, or object, accord- 
ing to the principle of association, or fusion, as shown 
in the last chapter. The mind becomes accustomed to 
find certain sensations together in a group, or object, 

158 



PERCEPTION 159 

so that when one or more of this group is experienced, 
the others are more or less instantaneously and spon- 
taneously supplied in imagination, and this process is 
called perception. Take any object, — a rubber ball, for 
instance, that has become perfectly familiar to the child. 
He has gotten sensations of form, touch, weight, color, 
taste, and smell from it, and these are intimately, per- 
haps for the time inseparably associated in memory. 
If now the child sees the outHne and color of the rubber 
ball, there are quickly brought up in his mind, by the 
long associations — by the association-tracts — the other 
sensations that have been previously experienced with 
regard to the ball — the child has performed an act of 
perception. Perception of objects, then, is based upon 
experience, and the meaning of any perception never ex- 
ceeds the content of experience, which is the various 
sensations associated together. 

Attributes of Perceived Objects. To all objects per- 
ceived we unconsciously attribute externality — the ob- 
jects are outside and not in consciousness merely; 
spatial position — they are in a fixed or changing relation 
to each other and to ourselves; extension and number — 
they are large, small, long, short, one or many, etc.; 
quality — they have inhering in them sensuous char- 
acteristics, as color, sound, weight. How it is that we 
attribute these characters to things rather than feel 
them as states of consciousness, forms an important part 
of philosophical and psychological discussion, especially 
the matter of externality. 

Origin of Perception of Externality. Since sensations 
are peculiar experiences lying wholly within the mind, or 
are forms of consciousness, how is it possible to explain 



160 THE MENTAL MAN 

the fact that sensations^ either alone or fused together 
into complexes^ are felt or known immediately as external 
to the mind? Two opposing views have been held. One 
is that the mind through inherent, native power simply 
perceives things as spatial and external. This is the 
nativistic view. The opposing view is that of the em- 
piricist; who maintains that everything about objects 
in perception is attained through experience. A middle 
view is that perception of externality is possible through 
a native power of the mind, but that only through em- 
pirical methods does definite and actual perception come 
about. Months are necessary before the child perceives 
at all, and many years to make perceptions definite and 
comparatively accurate. Perception, in man, is a de- 
velopment in every way, and not a finished accomplish- 
ment, as it seems to be in some forms of animal life. 
The young prairie chicken but a few days old is able 
to run through a corn-field, or underbrush, and skill- 
fully avoid coming in contact with objects in its way. 
Here is something like a native perception, not only 
of externality but of objects as such and their space 
relations. This, however, is probably an inherited neuro- 
muscular adjustment. 

Complexity of Perception — 1. Sensation; 2. Associa- 
tion; 3. Attention; 4. Interpretation. An act of per- 
ception, then, is not a simple one, but involves, more or 
less, the whole mind in complex and varied activities. 
First, as we have seen, there must be direct and original 
experience by the senses. Sensations as such have ref- 
erence, as it were, to an external world, and they con- 
tain, to some extent, the spatial element. Then by a 
synthetic process, or association, of which we are not 



PERCEPTION 161 

conscious in the least, the disconnected sense-impressions 
are fused together into very numerous sensation-groups, 
which when reexperienced, as they are in perception, 
become for us the objects of the world. Into these fused 
sensation-groups enter a great many kinds and shades of 
sensations, and upon these depends the accuracy of per- 
ception. Furthermore, as perception occurs only on 
the fresh occurrence of one or more sensations, to be- 
come aware of these, consciousness must be turned to 
them, i. e., there must be an act of attention. 

Finally, sensations in themselves — and we never ex- 
perience them in the abstract — are meaningless; there- 
fore, preceding a perception there must be a process of 
reassociation with a sensation-group^ of which the given 
actual sensations are an element, previously synthet- 
ically formed. Or to put it physiologically, sensations 
experienced together leave tracts in the brain — sensation- 
groups. A particular sensation tends to run in the same 
tract; not only that, but it also tends to produce a nerve- 
discharge along the whole group of tracts, of which it is 
one. This is the interpretive process in perception. 

Illusion and Hallucination. When a particular kind 
of a sensation has left a tract in various tract-groups, 
so to speak, there is opportunity for misinterpretation, 
as the sensation may cause discharge in any one of 
the many possible tract-groups. Thus illusions arise. 
Once when a child and away from home, the writer was 
absolutely positive that he saw a familiar book lying on 
a stone wall, and yet it turned out to be a wooden block 
quite unlike, in shape and size, the book that he thought 
he saw. When there is a nerve-discharge in a group 
without the actual sensations that usually occasion a 
11 



162 THE MENTAL MAN 

perception or an illusion^ but comes from an inner ex- 
citation^ it is a hallucination. As perceptions possess a 
certain vividness, so naturally illusions and hallucina- 
tions have a character of life-likeness; and it is not to be 
wondered at, that the persons who are afflicted with 
them should not be able to recognize their true import. 
But we shall speak of this later. 

Why one Perception rather than Another? — Anticipa- 
tion and Suggestion. We may now ask why certain sensa- 
tions call up one sensation-group rather than another. 
We feel that the great majority of group-discharges are 
valid perceptions (i. e., for practical purposes), and that 
it is only the exception that illusions occur. This, indeed, 
is the case because in most instances the surroundings 
are such that we may anticipate the perceptions in gen- 
eral, and the actual sensations are so explicit in character 
and combination that they can fit into only a limited 
number of sensation-groups. But at times our anticipa- 
tions are not induced by the immediate surroundings. 
Our minds may be full of some idea, as, for instance, 
when hunting for game or some lost article. Every 
stirring leaf startles us into seeing a quail, e. g.; or 
every pebble or straw into a vivid image of the lost 
ring. Holding a mental image before us in anticipation 
helps greatly to perceive more quickly the sought-for 
object; but, on the other hand, it lays us open also to 
illusion. Professor Mlinsterberg has found, e. g., that 
by displaying the word '' part'' for a very brief time and 
suggesting the word ''future'' to the observer, the ex- 
posed word will be read as ''past"; "fright" will be 
read as "fruit," if "vegetable" is suggested. That we 
shall find what we seek, is true in two senses. 



PERCEPTION . 163 

Suggestion plays an important role in the course of 
perception. Undoubtedly we all have been impressed, 
at times, with the fact that much escapes our notice in 
looking at an object, a landscape, or work of art, until 
the various details are pointed out to us. After the 
attention has been directed in certain ways, all is ap- 
parent enough. To what extent suggestion may direct 
not only perception, but the whole mind, will be seen 
under the proper topic. ^ 

Mood. Perception is often determined by the mood in 
which one happens to be. That love is blind, is as liter- 
ally true as that fear and discouragement magnify diffi- 
culties. The following passage from Resurrection by 
Tolstoy, that master delineator of the human soul, illus- 
trates the point. 

'^Nekhludoff had come here in order to distract his 
thoughts, for he used to like being in this house, both 
because its refined luxury had a pleasant effect on him 
and because of the atmosphere of tender flattery that 
unobtrusively surrounded him. But today everything 
in the house was repulsive to him — everything: begin- 
ning with the doorkeeper, the broad staircase, the 
flowers, the footman, the table decorations, up to Missy 
herself, who today seemed unattractive and affected. 
Kolosoff's self-assured, trivial tone of liberalism was un- 
pleasant, as was also the sensual, self-satisfied, bull-like 
appearance of old Korchagin, and the French phrases of 
Katerina Alexeevna, the Slavophil. The constrained 
looks of the governess and the student were unpleasant, 
too, but most unpleasant of all was the pronoun him that 
Missy had used. Nekhludoff had long been wavering be- 

1 Chapter XVIII. 



164 THE MENTAL MAN 

tween two ways of regarding Missy; sometimes he looked 
at her as if by moonUght, and could see in her nothing 
but what was beautiful, fresh, pretty, clever, and natu- 
ral; then suddenly, as if the bright sun shone on her, he 
saw her defects and could not help seeing them. This 
was such a day for him. Today he saw all the wrinkles 
of her face, knew which of her teeth were false, saw the 
way her hair was crimped, the sharpness of her elbows, 
and, above all, how large her thumb-nail was, and how 
like her father^s.^^ 

Fortuity. In many instances, perception apparently 
takes a fortuitous course, and we cannot say why a par- 
ticular tract-group is affected. For instance, Figure 10 
may be perceived in three different ways : as a fiat surface 
marked with lines; as a sort of a rectangular shaft into 
which we are looking; or as a sohd pyramid with the 
apex cut off. The next drawing (Fig. 11) may be seen as 
six cubes, but after looking steadily at a point in the 
middle for a Uttle while, seven cubes will appear. 

Importance of Interpretative Process. The value, then, 
of perception depends wholly on the accuracy of the in- 
terpretative process ; and it is apparent that considerable 
allowance must be made in testimony of personal ob- 
servation in the occurrences of life, especially as regards 
the details. Even excluding dishonesty and errors of 
memory, the grossest discrepancies in the evidence of 
witnesses may continually be met with in the courts of 
justice. In fact, were the witnesses to agree in every de- 
tail, the court could safely assume that there had been 
collusion on their part. 

Perceptive Value of Various Senses — Taste and Smell — 
Hearing — Localization. Perceptions come to us through 



PERCEPTION 



165 



. 



Fig. 10 




Fig. 11 



166 THE MENTAL MAN 

all the senses^ but some sensations have greater percep- 
tive value than others. Taste and smell do not give us 
any information as to the size and shape of objects, 
although the latter sense, in the savage and some animals, 
on account of its great keenness, is far more important in 
giving information than in the civilized man. Hearing 
not only gives perceptions of objects, but also, to a cer- 
tain extent, of distance and direction of the sound- 
producing object. How is this done? Various views re- 
garding sound-localization may be met with. One view 
(that of Stumpf) is that auditory sensations coming 
through one ear are slightly different from those coming 
through the other, and it is because of this difference that 
locahzation is possible. Another view (Preyer's) is that 
in hearing space-sensations occur in the semicircular 
canals of the ears. A third view is that direction is de- 
termined by the distribution, so to speak, of the in- 
tensity of the sound in both ears. If the intensity in 
both ears is in a certain customary proportion, the sound- 
waves are interpreted as coming from either the front or 
from behind. If either the right or the left ear is affected 
more, the sound is judged as coming from respectively the 
right or the left. Still another theory is that advanced 
by Professor Miinsterberg, according to which sound- 
localization comes from sensations of sound and sensa- 
tions of movement, either actual or incipient, of the head 
toward the sound-producing body. Facts point strongly 
to the truth of Mlinsterberg's contention, especially 
those brought to light by the experiments with the rotat- 
ing chair. Very briefly stated: If a person seated in a 
rotating chair be rotated, sensations of movement, such 
as are felt in dizziness, will arise, both while rotating and 



PERCEPTION 167 

immediately after. Now it is found that sounds reaching 
the ear will invariably be misplaced in the direction of 
the compensatory impulses to movements of the head.^ 

Distance is judged by the distinctness of the sound. 
The less distinct the sound and the fewer the overtones 
the farther the object from which the sound-waves 
emanate. The ventriloquist produces illusions in the 
hearer by accurate imitation of sounds, generally com- 
bined with suggestion, as they strike the ear from differ- 
ent places and distances. Ventriloquism is analogous to 
painting, and might be called sound-painting. 

Touch. Touch, including the sensations of the skin, 
muscles, and joints, is the sense through which objects 
are especially perceived as external, spatial, and sub- 
stantial. By means of the ^4ocal signs'' we learn to dis- 
criminate the parts of the body, and later to orient the 
body and objects at large. Through this we are enabled 
to locate above, below, before, behind, to this and that 
side. Through the joints and muscles we perceive the 
movements and position of the various members of the 
body, and are enabled to realize more thoroughly the 
spatial relation of objects to the body. Our units of 
measure, such as span, foot, and pace, are significant. 
We reaUze a mile after we have walked it. The height of 
objects is measured by movement of the eyes and head. 
In a sense, spaces and sizes are only realized and under- 
stood in terms of our body and its capacity for move- 
ment and endurance. The objects of our childhood-— 
tables, chairs, rooms, trees, little hills and valleys, our 
parents — all seem very much larger than they do after 
w^e are grown up. Through the skin we get percep- 
^ Psychological Review, I, 472. 



168 THE MENTAL MAN 

tions of temperature, and of smoothness and roughness. 
Muscular effort, combined with pressure in the joints, 
tension of the skin, respiration, and circulation of the 
blood, gives us the perception of weight and resistance 
— in short, of substance. 

An illusion of touch may be produced by crossing the 
third and fourth fingers and rolling a pea between them. 
It will seem like two peas. Another illusion of touch 
may be brought about by holding a stick by one end and 
''feehng'' about with the other end on some irregular 
surface, after having closed the eyes. It will seem as 
though the sense of touch had been transferred to the end 
of the stick. This feeling of extension of sensation may 
explain the fact that by wearing clothes we extend and 
enlarge the feeling of self, as Lotze pointed out is the 
case. A grand lady of necessity wears a long train and 
elaborate headdress, etc. 

Sight. Sight is by far the most interesting sense, al- 
though not as fundamental as touch. Through sight we 
originally perceive light, color, and outline, and to a 
limited degree, extension. However, we learn to per- 
ceive by sight vastly more, so that it need be no surprise 
to any one to find Bishop Berkeley speaking of sight as 
the ^^ divine visual language.'^ Visual sensations gain 
great significance by associations with sensations of 
touch. After sufficient experience, we can perceive sur- 
face, size, sohdity, and distance, by means of the eyes. 
But the use of the eyes involves more elements than 
mere vision. They are the following: 

1. The retina of the eyes. On this we have a perfect 
diminutive image of the object viewed in light, color, and 
outhne. The fainter the fight, shade, and color, and the 



PERCEPTION 169 

less detail and distinctness (aerial perspective), and the 
smaller the visual image of the object of known size, 
the farther we judge the object to be. This latter fact is 
the basis of isometrical perspective. Furthermore, ob- 
jects at a great distance have what is by painters called 
'^atmosphere," which serves as a sign of distance. The 
tourist, unaccustomed to the sight, greatly underesti- 
mates the distance of mountains on a clear day, because 
on account of their unusual size and prominent features, 
they stand out distinct and great in spite of their dis- 
tance. On the other hand, objects seen in a fog seem 
much magnified because of their indistinct appearance. 

2. Two eyes converging on a common object. This 
really gives us two different images of the same object 
from two slightly different points of view, and this yields 
a limited perception of solidity. Furthermore, the far- 
ther the object viewed the more parallel are the axes of 
the eyes. From their relative position, distance may be 
perceived. 

3. The lenses of the eyes. Clear vision is gained by 
properly adjusting the lenses; the nearer the object that 
is viewed the more convex the lenses must be fixed and 
the more strained the ciliary muscles — another sign of 
distance. We speak of the ''far away look" of the eyes, 
and this is no figure of speech. 

4. The mobihty of the eyes in the sockets. Both eyes 
may be turned so as to view spaces far greater than the 
field of vision. The larger the object, the more necessary 
it is to move the eyes (and perhaps the head), the dis- 
tance remaining the same. When the eyeballs remain at 
rest, and yet there is a change of imagery on the retina, 
we judge that we are moving, as in a railway car. An in- 



170 THE MENTAL MAN 

teresting illusion is that of the ''haunted swing/' Seated 
in a stationary swing/ which is in a movable room, all the 
peculiar sensations from the forward and backward 
vibrations of a swing are produced simply by moving the 
room with all its furniture, except the swing.^ SHght 
involuntary movement of the eyeballs also produces the 
illusion of movement of the whole body, or of the scene 
before us. Lateral movement of the eyes is more easily 
accompUshed than the perpendicular. This explains the 
fact that a perfect square seems higher than it does 
broad. The eyes tend to move along in the direction 
begun. This explains why two equally long hues, A and 
5, forked at the ends, seem of unequal length (Fig. 12). 
A looks shorter because the movement is checked by the 
inturned lines. This perhaps also accounts for the 
curved appearance of the lines C C and D D, in Fig- 
ure 13. 

All Perceptions Illusory. As the word is understood 
ordinarily, illusion is the exception and vahd perception 
the rule, but considered more critically, the number of 
illusions increases to a remarkable extent. Even the 
ancient skeptics, notably Timon and ^nesidemus, held 
that the senses cannot be trusted. They taught that 
no perceptions give us a knowledge of things as they are, 
but as they affect our intelligence and senses. The differ- 
ences in organization of sensible beings have for their 
natural consequence different impressions by the same 
objects. Different senses in the same individual may 
produce contrary impressions. An object may please 
through one sense and disgust through another. An ob- 
ject seen at different distances seems to be of different 
1 Cf , Psychological Review^ III, 277, 



PERCEPTION 



171 



B 



Fig. 12 





Fig. 13 



172 THE MENTAL MAN 

sizes and appearances. Qualities often differ according 
to quantities^ e. g., the horn of a goat is black, but de- 
tached fragments are whitish, etc. Time has not im- 
prove^ the matter. Modern science and thought have 
shown the impossibility of qualities, as we know them, 
residing in objects. Light, color, heat, and the other 
qualities are mental impressions from various kinds of 
vibrations; what the things-in-themselves are cannot be 
known, as Kant has pointed out years ago. Lotze re- 
marked later: ^^The whole of our apprehension of the 
world is one great and continued deception.'' Hoffding 
says that ^^ perception is an attempt to explain.''^ 
Making the standard of right perception a knowledge of 
things as they actually are aside from our impressions of 
them, all perceptions are illusory. But the purpose, evi- 
dently, is not to give knowledge of things as they are in 
themselves, but of things for practical ends. It is on this 
basis, roughly speaking, that right perception is distin- 
guished from illusion. 

Voluntary Illusions. Certain perceptions, illusions 
though they be, are cultivated, so to speak, to serve the 
end of pleasure and satisfaction of the aesthetic nature of 
man. The painting on the canvas is meant to produce 
illusion, and the more complete the illusion the better 
the work of art. Who would have that ^^enchantment'' 
dispelled that ^^ distance lends ... to the view?" The 
scientist pays the price for his deeper insight into things 
by the loss of the child-like way of seeing the world, and 
the departure of faith and poetry and romance, unless 
at the same time he diligently cultivates the ''spirit of 
things." 

1 Psychologie, Leipzig, 1893, p. 283, 



PERCEPTION 173 

Hallucinations, Proper and Pseudo. Hallucinations, as 
already explained, are mental images with all the char- 
acteristics of normal perception yet lacking the usual ob- 
jective stimulus. Though the excitations are probably in 
the brain-centers, there may be some occasioned periph- 
erally. Hallucinations are of two kinds : hallucinations 
proper, which on account of their great vividness and 
objectiveness are believed by the subject to be percep- 
tions of real things; and pseudo-hallucinations, which, al- 
though vivid and life-like, are felt to be unreal, yet may 
be regarded by the persons having them as signs. The 
latter is the case in visions and revelations. However, 
hallucinations proper are frequently regarded as revela- 
tions. Examples, even such as are a familiar part of 
history, are numerous. AVhile Luther, confined in his 
room on the Wartburg, was translating the Bible, the 
devil appeared to him, at whom then the reformer hurled 
his ink-well. Joan of Arc had vision upon vision accom- 
panied by auditory hallucinations. Mohammed had fre- 
quent visions as well as epileptic fits. He claimed to be a 
messenger of God and beheved himself to have inter- 
views with the angel Gabriel. Plutarch relates of Marcus 
Brutus that, just before leaving Asia, he was sitting in 
his tent alone by a dim light, while the whole army lay 
in sleep and silence; and as the general was thus seated 
and wrapped in meditation, he thought he perceived 
something enter his tent. Turning toward the door he 
saw a horrible and monstrous specter standing silently by 
his side. ''What art thou?'' he boldly said; ''Art thou 
god or man? And what is thy business with me?'' The 
specter answered, "I am thy evil genius, Brutus! Thou 
wilt see me at PhiUppi." To this Brutus replied calmly, 



174 THE MENTAL MAN 

''I'll meet thee there/' When the apparition was gone, 
he called his servants, who told him that they had 
neither heard any noise nor seen any vision. 

Some persons are able to produce pseudo-hallucinations 
at will. Thus Goethe, by closing his eyes and inclining 
his head forward, could bring up the image of a flower, 
out of which other flowers ever developed as long as he 
chose. 



CHAPTER XII 
UNEXPLAINED MENTAL PHENOMENA 

The usual manner in which sense-impressions come to 
the mind is through the channels of the sensory nerves. 
In view of certain facts, which will be presented below^ 
the question may here be raised as to whether the human 
mind can or ever does have real perception through 
extra sense-avenues. 

Psychic Phenomena. From time immemorial stories 
have circulated of dreams, visions, ghosts, and presen- 
timents, to which, in many instances, there was striking 
coincidence in the actual occurrences of life. There has 
been a tendency amongst men of scientific habits and 
proclivities of thought, to look upon all these re- 
ported experiences as manifestations of superstition, 
self-deception, errors and exaggerations of memory, of 
diseased imagination, or insane hallucinations, to say 
nothing of intentional fraud. However, of late years, 
especially since the founding of the Society for Psychi- 
cal Research in 1882, the investigation of such matters 
has enhsted men of scientific training and reputation, 
and much has been done to throw greatly needed light 
into a long neglected field of research. Many striking 
phenomena that have astonished the ever gullible pub- 
lic, have, under the search-light of investigators, been 
correctly explained on the ground of fraud or hyper- 
sesthesia or thought-forms, or two or all three of these 
combined. 

175 



176 THE MENTAL MAN 

Various Phenomena Explained. The tricks of show- 
men are legion. In fraudulent exhibitions designed to 
prove extraordinary powers of mind of any person, 
called the percipient, there is often collusion between 
the percipient and agent. Usually a very ingenious code 
of signs is prearranged, by means of which the agent can 
communicate the desired information to the percipient 
and so mystify the lookers-on. Hypersesthesia, or over- 
sensitiveness to stimuU, is rarely found in persons of 
good health in their normal condition, but is common 
in the somnambuUstic and hypnotic states. With eyes 
firmly closed, the somnambule can walk all around and 
not run into objects. Hypnotized subjects often man- 
ifest almost incredible keenness of the senses, as, e. g., 
to identify a particular white card shuffled with a score 
or more of other white cards '^just hke'^ the particular 
card, as the person with ordinary perception would say. 
^^ Muscle reading ^^ is possible on the ground of hyper- 
sesthesia of touch and sight in the reader, who notes 
the infinitesimal muscular adjustments expressive of a 
particular mental state. Of thought-forms it is to be 
remarked that persons tend to think in the same direc- 
tions, and especially where there are similar training, 
tastes, and occupations, and the same environments, 
both physical and mental. It is, therefore, no evidence 
of unusual activities for two intimate friends or relatives 
to find each other frequently thinking of the same 
things simultaneously. 

Additional Principles of Explanation Needed. But 
fraud, hypersesthesia, and thought-forms do not seem to 
explain all the so-called psychical phenomena. In fact 
there is a long array of cases collected with the utmost 



UNEXPLAINED MENTAL PHENOMENA 177 

care, of presentiments, simultaneous dreams, and virid- 
ical hallueinations, that, aside from mere coincidence, 
find their easiest explanation, in the popular sense, in the 
assumption of a mode of impressing one mind by an- 
other not yet determined. However, so unusual from 
the common course of events are the phenomena illus- 
trative of this principle that the first duty of science is to 
investigate the data and determine just what are the 
fads; the explanation may then follow. At any rate, 
the student of psychology ought to have his attention 
called to the facts as they are known. 

The Facts. These phenomena, viz., presentiments, si- 
multaneous dreams, viridical hallucinations, and thought- 
transference, all have this in common, that, on the 
one hand, they are purely mental, and, on the other, 
they singularly coincide with real events. Thus it is 
said. that the presentiment came true; the dream was 
true, the vision, or apparition, or hallucination, had its 
objective counterpart; the thought arising in one mind 
was also in another. Thus Romanes, the English scien- 
tist, reported the case of a friend, who saw his grand- 
mother in his sleep in a striking manner, and a few days 
later the news arrived of her death, which occurred on 
the same day and at the same hour of the dream. Mar- 
shal Serrano, of Madrid, just before dying himself, in 
1892, cried out into the silence of the night, ^^ Quick, let 
an officer of ordinance mount and hasten to Prado; the 
king is dead!'' The next day all Madrid learned with 
stupefaction of the death of king Alphonso XII, which 
occurred when he was almost alone at Prado. ^ Max 
Dessior, the German psychologist, with some friends 

1 V. Flammarion, The Unknown, New York, 1902, pp. 366-367, 
13 



178 THE MENTAL MAN 

performed some successful experiments in ^Hhought- 
transference/' in 1885. While Dessior was out of the 
room some figure was drawn. After returning, with eyes 
closely bandaged, ^^I set myself at the table/' he writes, 
^^and in many instances placed my hands on the table, 
and the agent placed his hands on mine ; the hands lay 
quite still on one another. When an image presented 
itself to my mind, the hands were removed. ... I took 
off the bandage and drew my figure.' ' The following 
(Figures 14-25) are, in part, the results. The experi- 
ments recorded by Anton Schmoll ^ and Etienne Mabire, 
of Paris, were conducted similarly. The percipient, with 
eyes bandaged, sat in a corner of the room with his 
back turned to the agents and about ten feet from 
them. Figures 26-45 represent some of the results.^ 

Ludovic X., a child, beginning with his fifth year, 
was observed to possess remarkable powers. When his 
mother wished to teach him the multiplication table, she 
was amazed to find him able to recite it as well as she 
could herself. In fact, he was able to give the answer 
forthwith to any mathematical problem known to his 
mother. If his mother underlined with her nail any 
word in the book, the child was able to name it without 
seeing it. He could find any object hidden without his 
knowledge, guess all the cards in a game, translate for- 
eign languages, etc. In fact, whatever was in his 
mother's mind, he could perceive.^ 

Thousands of similar cases are on record, and thou- 

1 One of the founders of the Astronomical Society of France. 

2 Cf. Apparitions and Thought-Transference, Frank Podmore, M.A., 
London and New York, 1895. 

3 V. Flammarion, op. cit., p. 294 ff. 



i- 



UNEXPLAINED MENTAL PHENOMENA 179 



ORIGINAL 



REPRODUCTIONS 




ORIGINAL 



REPRODUCTIONS 





^ 


^ 



ORIGINAL 



REPRODUCTIONS 




s 








Figs. 14-25 



180 



THE MENTAL MAN 



ORIGINAL 



EEPKODUCTION 



/Oi 




ORIGINALS 





REPRODUCTIONS 




)X< 





OBJECT 



REPRODUCTION 




Cy vJ 



Figs. 26-35 



UNEXPLAINED MENTAL PHENOMENA LSI 



OBJECT 



REPRODUCTION 





ORIGINALS 





r-t 



^? 




REPRODUCTIONS 



/A' 





Figs. 36-45 



182 THE MENTAL MAN 

sands of others that have never reached pubhclty, con- 
stitute, so to speak, the private legends of many fam- 
ihes. So numerous are these phenomena from the dawn 
of history down to the present time, that no psychology 
is complete without taking note of them, whatever be 
the principle that explains them, be it self-deception of 
some sort, or a hidden agency operating upon an equally 
obscure and undeveloped function of man. 

Telepathy not Proved. The principle usually assigned 
in explanation of all these phenomena, is telepathy- 
mind acting on mind other than through the known 
senses, and suggestive of a sort of mental wireless 
telegraphy. This explanation is simple enough and 
seems to satisfy many, yet, as a recent psychologist has 
pointed out,^ it is one thing to prove that these phenom- 
ena are not due to chance, and another to jump, there- 
fore, to the conclusion that telepathy explains all. Un- 
doubtedly there is something to be explained, but it is 
doubtful, whether the facts containing the clue to the 
solution have as yet been noted, or whether, at the 
present stage of knowledge, the clue is discoverable. 
This much we may confidently look for, that when the 
facts containing the solution will have been observed, 
the answer will not be at variance with the sum total 
of scientific knowledge. 

1 Joseph Jastrow, Fact and Fable in Psychology, Boston and 
New York, 1900, p. 98. 



CHAPTER XIII 
MEMORY 

Memory has Reference to the Past. Consciousness 
by direct methods knows its own content. When this 
content, in the form of an idea, or image, is referred to 
past experience, the consciousness is memory. The act 
of reference and the idea both belong to the present 
instant of consciousness, but the experience which the 
idea means, belongs entirely to the past. 

Organic Memory. Frequently two kinds of memory 
are described, the ^^ organic,'' and memory proper. By 
the ^^ organic memory'' is meant the power of the ner- 
vous system to conserve impressions in the establish- 
ment of habits. The only use this extended designation 
has, is to point out the analogy between these purely 
physiological facts and memory proper, in the matter of 
conserving impressions for future use. Yet the sim- 
ilarity between organic memory and memory proper is 
so striking that we may regard the one as primary and 
partial, and the other as developed and complete 
memory. 

In this broader sense, memory, the power to conserve 
impressions, is inherent in all nerve-substance, and may 
be observed in the simplest forms of life, such as the uni- 
cellular organisms. The amoeba, a shapeless speck of 
protoplasm, so small that it must be observed through 
the microscope, selects its food with practical discrim- 

183 



184 THE MENTAL MAN 

ination, while a grain of sand is thrust back with its 
pseudopodia. Whence this discrimination? Presumably 
the tendency of this speck of life was acquired during 
the ages of existence of its ancestors. The higher the 
forms of life the more elaborate the organic memories 
appearing as impulses, tendencies, and instincts that 
are transmitted from parent to offspring. It is quite 
wonderful to see with what correctness the little chick, 
that has just crept out of its shell, acts with regard to 
its environment. Considered in the light of organic 
memory, it is not quite so mysterious, even though quite 
as remarkable.^ 

Memory Proper Defined — 1. Retention. Memory, in 
the usual and proper sense of the word, is the power of 
the mind to retain, recall, and recognize centrally and 
peripherally originated impressions. Memory is con- 
cerned with impressions, as we may designate all mental 
experiences, whether they be sensations, perceptions, 
thoughts, feelings or volitions, that have passed from 
consciousness. These impressions, in order to be remem- 
bered, must, in some way, be retained. The retention- 
aspect of memory is one of which we are never conscious, 
nevertheless it is a logical demand that we find highly 
useful in our thoughts about memory. We know by 
direct experience what an impression is as long as it 
is in consciousness, but after that it is impossible to 
form an adequate conception of it and its whereabouts. 
We may say with Locke and later with Bowne, that 
ideas are actual only as long as they are in the mind, and 

J Instructive reading along this line may be found in Ewald 
lleruig's On Memory ^ and Alfred Binet's The Psychic Life of Micro- 
Organisms, 



MEMORY 185 

when they are out of it they are nowhere ; we can then 
only speak of revivabihty of impressions. It is just this 
revivabihty, however, on which we seem to need fur- 
ther Hght, and, therefore, speak of a '^retention'' of im- 
pressions, which may be ''revived/' The matter is 
most easily understood if represented in physiological 
terms, which, no doubt, have their psychological ana- 
logues. Impressions are somehow retained as neurone- 
modifications. For instance, we hear the ringing of a 
bell. Together with the consciousness there is an im- 
pression made in certain portions of the brain. Long 
after the consciousness of ringing has ceased, there is left 
in the brain a specific modification, which, under con- 
ditions, may serve to '^recall'' or ''revive'^ to conscious- 
ness the image of the original experience. 

Degrees of Retention. The conservation of either 
centrally or peripherally originated impressions, is not 
constant, nor alike in different persons, but seems to 
depend upon the tone and quality of the brain-cells. 
Impressions received when the nerve-centers are fresh 
and well nourished, are better retained than when the 
latter are wearied by too many impressions or in an ir- 
ritated, exhausted condition. The impressions of child- 
hood, after the third or fourth year, and of youth are 
better conserved than those of middle life, and those of 
middle life than those of old age. ''First impressions'^ 
are apt to last. Those of the morning are more lasting 
than those of later hours. In old age, when memory is 
declining, or in progressive amnesia, due to disease, the 
impressions of the earlier years of life remain vivid the 
longest, while those of the present or the immediate past 
are lost very quickly. It is for these reasons that we 



186 THE MENTAL MAN 

should devote the early hours of the day to such occu- 
pations as require retention of details; and that the 
early years of our education should be devoted to pure 
acquirement of knowledge — not to mention the direct- 
ing of the will and the forming of good taste — rather than 
to critical and analytical work. 

Age of Maximum Memory Power. It is commonly 
known that memory is strongest in young persons^ yet 
to determine the age when the power is greatest, ex- 
perimental tests must be made. Auditory memory-tests, 
e. g., were ijiade ^ on one hundred school children of dif- 
ferent ages. The matter to be remembered was a story. 
The results of these memory tests show that the boys in 
the third grade remembered only seventeen per cent of 
the story, while in the second year of the high school 
they remembered forty-three per cent, which was the 
highest for boys. The girls remembered eighteen per 
cent in the third grade, forty-three per cent in the seventh 
grade, and forty-seven per cent in the high school. 
Other tests in auditory memory, show that '^younger 
pupils always reproduce the numbers without hesitation, 
while college students always hesitated and required 
more time to reproduce the hst.'^ ^ Visual memory was 
found to be stronger in older students than in younger 
persons. 

Basis of Retention. There is abundant material in 
physiology and pathology to show that, retention is di- 
rectly dependent upon nutrition of the nerve-centers. 
Fatigue and inadequate food, impairment of the or- 
ganic functions so that food is not properly changed to 

1 By John C. Shaw, of Clark University. 

2 C. J. Hawkins, Yale University. Psychological Review, IV, p. 289 ff, 



MEMORY 187 

blood, or reduction of nervous tone or impaired nourish- 
ment of the nerve-cells, is attended with a proportionate 
loss of the power to retain impressions. Actual labora- 
tory tests show that; whereas a certain person in a nor- 
mal condition required one hundred thirty-four seconds 
to commit to memory a set of eighteen figures, after 
seventy-two hours of enforced insomnia (sleeplessness) 
he required nine hundred sixty seconds in one test, 
while in a third test he failed entirely after having 
worked at it for twenty minutes. After sleep this same 
person easily committed the figures to memory in one 
hundred six seconds.^ 

2. Recall. The second aspect of memory is the power 
to recall impressions to the mind. That this power ex- 
ists, we know directly in consciousness, on the appearance 
of ideas referring to past experience ; but of the act of re- 
calling, as such, we know nothing whatsoever, although 
we may be certain that while we speak of ''recalling,'' 
^'reproducing,'' or "reviving" impressions, the process 
itself is not an echo or duplicate of the original act of 
perception or sensation, but is an original act itself. 

Memory-Ideas. The idea, too, in memory is not the 
old impression literally revived or exactly reproduced, 
as we might revive the wilted plant, or reproduce a 
silver dollar that a few minutes or hours before had been 
slipped into our pocket. The idea, or image in memory, 
while it represents a past experience with more or less 
fidelity, is in itself a mental fact belonging wholly to the 
moment in which it occurs in consciousness. 

Memory as Imagination. Recalled impressions, in gen- 

1 Experiments by Prof. G. T. W. Patrick and Dr. Allen Gilbert. 
Psychological Review j III, p. 469 ff. 



188 THE MENTAL MAN 

eral, as already stated, are images, in a way, of the origi- 
nal experience. If the impression be one of sight, the 
recall will take the form of a visual image; if of sound, a 
sound image, or one of the adjustment and movement of 
the vocal organs, etc. In other words, memory of the 
simpler experiences is largely imagination. Yet, as the 
mind occupies itself more and more with relations and 
complex affairs, the tendency to employ symbols in 
thought and in recall in place of images becomes stronger, 
and there is often a corresponding decline of the power to 
represent in definite images. However, there are excep- 
tions to this rule. Professor Ktilpe has made observa- 
tions upon several persons to determine their power of 
recollecting in definite color-images, and found that one 
of them was ''absolutely incapable of forming a sensory 
idea of any colored object. He saw nothing in spite of 
all his efforts,'^ and yet his visual perception was normal, 
as was also his process of recognition. ''Here then, we 
have a person who recollects and remembers without 
memory-images, and has thoughts and ideas without 
images of imagination.^' ^ 

Perceptions and Memory-Images. We are not able to 
discriminate as many qualities in memory-images as in 
sense-perception, yet there is always, in normal repro- 
duction, a difference marked enough to enable us to 
distinguish memory-images from perceptions. Especially 
in point of vividness, the image generally falls far below 
the original impression. The memory of a toothache 
does not pain, nor the thought of a draught of water 
allay thirst. As compared with the actual experience, a 
memory is hollow, vague, and insipid. However, in ab- 

1 Outlines of Psychology^ London and New York, 1895, § 27, 9. 



MEMORY 189 

normal reproduction, as in a state of hypnosis, or in 
hallucination of the sane or insane, the suggested image 
is felt as real as life. 

Recollection Variable. Just as there is a fluctuation of 
the power to conserve impressions, so we note that not at 
all times can we recall impressions with the same facility 
and precision. There are times when memories crowd 
themselves upon our notice. Names and faces, reminis- 
cences with all attending emotions and circumstances, 
and anecdotes, and words with which to give expression 
to them, present themselves without effort or inter- 
ruption. At other times all is the reverse. We cannot 
recall some of the very familiar things. We feel stupid 
and our speech is unusually prosy, and perhaps even hesi- 
tating and faulty. We feel as if sand were in the wheels 
of our mental machinery, and that which refuses to 
come to our mind and tongue now, is not lost but will 
appear some other time. 

Basis of Recollection. As retention depends upon nu- 
trition, so recall of impressions seems to depend upon a 
neurone-activity that also stimulates circulation in the 
brain. For it is noticed that when reproduction is poorer 
than usual, the circulation, too, is frequently poorer, and 
when reproduction is increased, circulation is also. Of 
course this observation obtains only when the general 
circulation is the same as the encephalic. In acute 
fevers, when the circulation is abnormally rapid, memory- 
images are excessively numerous and vivid. In the 
patient's delirious states, innumerable fancies and images 
rush pell-mell through the mind until it is well-nigh ex- 
hausted. The maniac, too, who is affected with an ex- 
altation of nervous functions, abounds in a multitude 



190 THE MENTAL MAN 

of pictures and fancies, and so vivid are they often that 
they are to him as reahty. Persons who have been in 
danger of impending death testify that in an instant 
their whole hfe with all its supposedly long forgotten 
incidents, flashed through their mind in that critical 
moment. No one knows better than the participants 
how appropriate is the word ''Kaffee-klatsch^^ — a minor 
social function of German ladies, in which coffee and 
'' gossip'' (klatsch) are indulged in. No wonder that 
there is a romance of wine, honored in song and poetry 
from time immemorial ; for wine exhilarates and quickens 
the circulation and thus loosens the tongue and brings 
the flow of wit and humor at the convivial gathering and 
the social board! All other stimulants have a similar 
effect, while sedatives have the opposite. The latter 
soothe the nerves, and taken in large doses, even retard 
the circulation. Ribot cites the case of a clergyman who 
was obliged to discontinue the use of bromide of potas- 
sium, because he had very nearly lost his memory, which 
returned when the medicine was discontinued.^ 

Course of Reproduction, Though the power of repro- 
duction of impressions seems to depend on a nerve- 
activity directly favoring circulation, we have yet to 
consider why of the vast number of impressions, this 
one should be recafled rather than another. This ques- 
tion can never be fully answered, any more than why 
there should be recall at all. 

Various Explanations of Course of Ideas. The course 

of ideas has always incited the sense of the mysterious 

and wonderful. The scholastic psychologists held it to 

be ''one of the most difficult secrets of Nature.'' Various 

^ Diseases, of Memory, New York, 1882, p. 200. 



MEMORY 191 

^'laws'^ have been formulated, which were supposed to 
account for the order of reproduction. It was Aristotle 
who first affirmed the relations existing between ideas to 
be those of contiguity of space and time, similarity j and 
contrast. Hume substituted cause and effect for con- 
trast, while others increased the three to seven, then to 
ten. In spite of the fact that nearly every psychologist 
had his own laws, the ''laws of association^' have gained 
such importance with the English psychologists as to 
become their sole psychological creed. Thus J. S. Mill 
held that the law of association was coordinate with the 
law of gravitation, the one ruling the psychical world as 
the other does the physical. But we become suspicious 
at first glance that these ''laws'' are not fundamental, 
however much they may explain, to say nothing of other 
objections. Then there is the law of redintegration, first 
announced by St. Augustine: "Objects that have been 
previously united as parts of a single mental state, tend 
to recall or suggest one another." This does not account 
for the fact that objects that have not been in the mind 
before, frequently suggest others. The theory of Her- 
bart, that of the interaction of ideas on the ground of 
repulsion and attraction, with which ideas are endowed, 
is altogether too fanciful for matter-of-fact psychology. 

Facts, not Logic, decide the Law. What the "law'' 
governing the succession of ideas is, should be decided 
by the facts and not by logic. 

The Facts. We notice, in the first place, that a series 
of ideas occurs in which we can plainly detect the outward 
relation of the ideas. The image of a name suggests that 
of the thing, and vice versa. A horn suggests the idea of 
a whole ox. A suggests 6, h suggests c, etc. A single 



192 THE MENTAL MAN 

object, e. g., a tree, recalls the group to which it be- 
longed, the stretches of valley in which it stood, the river 
emerging from the blue hills beyond^ sweeping by fields, 
woods, farms, and willow-decked bars, and then with a 
titanic curve disappearing behind the weathered bluffs of 
chalk. It also recalls me the observer and the effect of 
the view upon my mind. Transport one into joy, and all 
the world seems to smile. There are then no difficulties. 
On the other hand, let gloom settle upon him, and what a 
swarm of black-robed pictures array themselves before 
his vision ! Fill one with fear, and danger lurks on every 
hand. A fire suggests warmth, and a spark of fire flying 
into a can of gunpowder an explosion and destruction. 
The sight of a mouse a few days old may bring up the 
image of an elephant ; and that of a panther, the image 
of a cat. A sensation or feeling at this time may suggest 
the Coliseum in Rome, or an omnibus ride in London, or 
a discourse on the Ethics of Tolstoy. 

The Law of Association. It is an easy matter to dis- 
cover in each of these examples a reason for the recall. 
It may be said that in one case it is previous association, 
in another habit, in a third similarity, and so on. The 
question now is, can we make a formulation that will 
cover all these and similar cases? We find such a one in 
the statement that Impressions that have once been to- 
gether simultaneously or successively in consciousness^ tend 
to reappear together. The same fact physiologically 
stated: Brain-processes that have once been active to- 
gether simultaneously or successively, tend to propagate 
their excitement into each other. It is to be noted that 
it is not the objects that establish liability of reproduc- 
tion but the effects (impressions) these objects have upon 



MEMORY , 193 

consciousness. Thus we see why a^ panther, seen for the 
first time, may remind us of a cat; it is not because the 
animals are similar, but because there is partial identity 
of impressions, i. e., a part of the impression produced by 
the sight of panther has been in consciousness before 
when we had the impression of cat. 

Secondary Elements in Association. Yet the impres- 
sions that have been in consciousness together are many, 
while in the recall only a few present themselves. Why 
this particular impression rather than some other? That 
is determined by secondary facts, viz., vividness and 
recency of impressions, present mood and interest, famil- 
iarity or frequency (repetition) and primacy (standing at 
the beginning of a series of impressions). It has been 
determined experimentally ^ that liability to associations 
due to frequency, or repetition of impressions, is one 
tenth greater than that due to the vividness or recency 
of impressions, although in auditory impressions, recency 
produces a ''very striking effect.'' ^ The fact that an 
impression stands first in a series of impressions (primacy) 
is of little significance except in individual cases, or 
when the primacy is in a short series. 

Sporadic Reproduction. But there is still another 
class of recalls which seem to need special explanation. 
Often suggestions out of all keeping with the surround- 
ings come, and it may be asked, ''What made you think 
of that?'' Frequently we are positive that no conscious 
train of thought has brought up the idea. These memo- 
ries, out of all rhyme and reason with our atmosphere 

1 At Wellesley and Harvard. V. Mary W. Calkins' Association, 
New York, 1896. 

2 Op. cit., p. 50. 

13 



194 THE MENTAL MAN 

arid conscious occupation, pop into the mind and sur- 
prise us with their incongruity. Are these spontaneously 
originated, as they seem to be, or have we merely for- 
gotten the connecting train of ideas, as is often con- 
tended? The author but recently, while looking at some 
dill-pickles, had flash upon his mind the image of a 
southern California beach and an incident associated 
with the scene. The memory came so suddenly and the 
connecting link was sought for so immediately that a 
dropping out of a segment of consciousness is altogether 
improbable, yet he felt that there was a connection 
somewhere, if it could but be found. And it was found 
after a little thought. Where the brine on the pickles 
had dried, there were left fine, white salt crystals, just' 
such as he had seen on kelp and sea-mosses that he had 
gathered on that beach. The memory in the stream of 
consciousness was spontaneous, and yet we see how it 
may come under our law, at least in its physiological 
version. Now it is a question whether all cases of re- 
production direct in consciousness are not really indi- 
rect as far as the brain-process is concerned, just like the 
one given. That there are unconscious brain-processes 
may be regarded as established beyond a doubt, and 
though we have reason to suppose that the general nature 
of unconscious cerebration is the same as that accom- 
panied by consciousness, we yet have no direct evidence 
against the supposition, that there may be brain-processes 
independent of and unrelated to other processes immedi- 
ately preceding, i. e., spontaneously generated processes. 
3. Recognition. The third feature in memory is 
recognition of the experience which the idea means. 
Reproduction without the feeling of familiarity, of 



MEMORY 195 

having-known-before, would be mere repetition and not 
memory. 

Recognition of memory-images is not unlike recogni- 
tion in perception. We meet a person that we have seen 
before, and we say that we remember or recognize him, 
or that we do not; we have forgotten. Recognition may 
or may not accompany perception, but reproduction is 
generally accompanied by the consciousness of having 
been aware, on some former occasion, of this particular 
experience, which the idea means. I say, generally; for 
the fact that we have a reproduction of an experience 
does not imply that we have an experience of a repro- 
duction, either logically or factually. Macaulay some- 
where tells of a gentleman, who in the morning would re- 
produce in writing as his own, what had been read to 
him the evening before. Some interesting cases of plagi- 
arism have been cleared up on the ground of reproduc- 
tion without recognition. 

Pseudo-Recognition. Pseudo-recognition — also desig- 
nated pseudo-memory, and paramnesia — is an illusion of 
memory. It is a phenomenon opposite to that marked 
by the absence of recognition. There come to conscious- 
ness moments that seem to have been experienced some- 
time before with precisely the same feelings, content, and 
circumstances. Paramnesia is quite widespread, being 
experienced by about thirty out of every one hundred 
persons, as was found by a French investigator.^ In 
some persons it may occur so frequently and include so 
much of the consciousness, as to appear as a mental 
disorder. This seems to have been true of a case re- 
ported by Dr. Arnold Pick. ''An educated man^ who 

lA. Lalande. 



196 THE MENTAL MAN 

seems to have understood his disease, and who himself 
gave a written description of it, was seized at the age of 
thirty-two with a singular mental affection. If he was 
present at a social gathering, if he visited any place what- 
ever, if he met a stranger, the incident, with all the at- 
tendant circumstances, appeared so famihar that he was 
convinced of having received the same impressions be- 
fore, of having been surrounded by the same persons or 
the same objects, under the same sky and the same state 
of the weather. If he undertook any new occupation, he 
seemed to have gone through with it at some previous 
time and under the same conditions. The feeling some- 
times appeared the same day, at the end of a few mo- 
ments or hours, sometimes not until the following day, 
but always with perfect distinctness.'^ ^ 

Recognition and Knowing. Recognition, the act of 
reknowing, is as fundamental as any act of knowing. 
How we can know that we have known the same things 
before, is the same kind of a mystery as any fundamental 
fact. And yet recognition differs from simple knowing 
in that the former contains the sense of pastness, brought 
about by the particular character of the neural dis- 
charge. This is not only fainter than the original dis- 
charge, but its tract is crossed by and blended in its 
^'fringe" with other memory-tracts, so as to form a very 
complex affair, instead of the ''simple idea'' it is often 
wont to be represented. To be sure, sometimes the 
memory-tracts are so intensely reexcited as to give the 
impression of an original excitation, in which case it con- 
stitutes a real or pseudo-hallucination. 

Recognition, in pseudo-recognition, is probably not 

1 Ribot, Diseases of Memory, New York, 1882, p. 188. 



MEMORY 197 

unlike valid recognition. To make the matter clear we 
have but to suppose that impressions are recorded in 
both hemispheres of the brain^ and that in pseudo- 
recognition^ for some retarding cause the impression 
reaches one hemisphere later than the other and with 
less intensity.^ The effect in consciousness is just what 
we might expect^ viz.^ a distinct impression with the 
added consciousness of a fainter impression following the 
other indefinitely in time. 

Capacity of Memory. Memory, in different persons, 
differs both as to capacity and kind, as every one of us 
has abundant opportunity to observe among friends and 
acquaintances. Some seem able to remember every- 
thing from the trivial things about them to the abstract 
formulas in infinitesimal calculus; while others are ever 
conspicuous for what they have forgotten. Napoleon I, 
his biographers relate, personally received and read all 
letters directed to him and never forgot their contents. 
One glance sufficed to fix ineffaceably on his mind for all 
time the scenes upon which he came. Samuel Johnson, 
says Boswell, never forgot anything that he either 
heard or read. Seneca, the philosopher, could repeat 
forward and backward 2,000 unconnected names after 
they were read but once. Muretus, the tutor to Mon- 
taigne, tells of one of his pupils, a Corsican, who could 
repeat forward and backward 36,000 unconnected words 
after one hearing, and could have repeated more had 
the readers not become exhausted. Joseph Scaliger 
memorized the whole of Homer in twenty-one days. 
Although extensive memorizing is not in vogue these 
days, we still hear of a grandfather occasionally that, 
1 Wigan's theory of the non-synchronous action of the hemispheres. 



198 THE MENTAL MAN 

John Ruskin like, can repeat the EngUsh version of the 
Bible from beginning to end. Helen Keller never for- 
gets the spelling of a word that she has learned to spell. 

Kinds of Memory. Memory, too, in different per- 
sons is of a special kind. One person has a good memory 
for sounds; another for colors and forms; and still an- 
other for relations, material and logical, etc. An id- 
iotic negro, who has been extensively exhibited through- 
out the country, is able to reproduce without the least 
deviation on the piano, any piece of music, Jiowever 
difficult, after hearing it but once. Mozart wrote down 
''Miserere'' after having heard it a second time. It is 
related by an English writer that a certain man ''could 
remember the day when every person had been buried 
in the parish for thirty-five years, and could repeat with 
unvarying accuracy the name and age of the deceased, 
and the mourners at the funeral. But he was a com- 
plete fool. Out of the line of burials he had not one 
idea, could not give an intelligible reply to a single 
question, nor be trusted even to feed himself.'' ^ A cer- 
tain French painter had such an extraordinary visual 
memory that he could paint portraits from memory. 
He would intently fix his eyes on the person sitting for 
a moment, then dismiss him. After that the painter 
could vividly see his model sitting there whenever he 
chose, by only looking at the vacant chair. Others 
again have such poor visualizing power as not to be able 
to bring up in the mind a distinct image of the most 
familiar face. 

Experimental study of memory has yielded some very 

1 Quoted from Forbes Winslow's The Obscure Diseases of the 
Brcvn and Disorders of the Mind, London, 1868, p. 561. 



MEMORY 199 

suggestive and interesting data. The results oi experi- 
ments ^ with regard to a large number of persons, 
ranging from primary pupils up to and including col- 
lege students, corroborate the conclusions of other ex- 
periments mentioned above (p. 186), viz., that auditory 
memory in females is developed earlier than in males. 
Visual word-memory and memory of objects seen seem 
to be stronger in males. After an intermission of three 
days, objects seen can be reproduced in memory by 
males and females, seven times as effectually as words 
heard. ^ 

Differences Accounted for. This difference in mem- 
ory in different persons is accounted for by the unequal 
efficiency of the various centers. Visual memory de- 
pends principally on the occipital lobes; sound-memory 
on Wernicke's convolution, etc. When these centers 
are impaired from some cause or other, there is a cor- 
responding loss of memory (amnesia) besides other 
functional disturbances. For example, a patient (de- 
scribed by Legroux) troubled with aphasia, after recov- 
ery testified that he had forgotten all the vocabulary 
he knew, yet fully retained his consciousness and will- 
power. He knew clearly what he wanted to say, yet 
could not say it. Although he understood perfectly the 
questions directed to him, no effort on his part to reply 
enabled him to remember a word. 

Forgetting — Hypermnesia. The question is some- 
times raised if any impression is ever lost beyond recall. 
The general experience is that the person with average 
memory forgets far more than he remembers. John 

1 Conducted by E. A. Kirkpatrick. 

2 Psychological Review, 1, 602 ff. 



200 THE MENTAL MAN 

Locke says that ''ideas in the mind fade, and often van- 
ish quite out of the understanding, leaving no more 
footsteps or remaining characters of themselves, than 
shadows do flying over fields of corn. . . . Thus the 
ideas, as well as children of our youth, often die before 
us; and our minds represent to us those tombs to which 
we are approaching; where though the brass and marble 
remain, yet the inscriptions are effaced by time, and the 
imagery moulders away. The pictures drawn in our 
minds are laid in fading colors; and if not sometimes re- 
freshed, vanish and disappear.^' ^ Yet when we consider 
the numerous cases of hypermnesia — exaltation of mem- 
ory — and other pertinent facts, the current view of psy- 
chologists, that we irrevocably forget the larger part of 
our impressions, is made somewhat uncertain. A young 
woman who could neither read nor write — it is related 
by Coleridge ^ — in the delirious moments of a fever was 
heard talking Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, whole pages 
of which were written down. It was long before any 
explanation save that of demoniacal possession could be 
obtained, until her history was traced back, and it was 
found that as a child she had been charitably cared for 
and lived in the house of a Protestant clergyman, who 
used to make a practice of reading aloud from the Greek 
and Latin Fathers, and from a collection of Rabbinical 
writings. In these works so many of the passages taken 
down at the young woman's bedside were identified as 
to leave no reasonable doubt as to their source. ''A case 
has been related to me,'' says Dr. Abercrombie, ''of a 

1 Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Book II, Chap. X, 
4-5. 

2 jBiographia Literaria, 



MEMORY 201 

boy, who at the age of four received a fracture of the 
skull, for which he underwent the operation of trepan. 
He was at the time in a state of perfect stupor, and after 
his recovery retained no recollection either of the acci- 
dent or of the operation. At the age of fifteen, during 
the delirium of a fever, he gave his mother a correct de- 
scription of the operation, and the persons who were 
present at it, with their dress and other minute partic- 
ulars. He had never been observed to allude to it be- 
fore, and no means were known by which he could 
have acquired the circumstances which he mentioned. '' ^ 
The author was recently investigating automatic writ- 
ing by a young woman. He asked what the operas of 
Wagner were. The young woman, who was cultured and 
otherwise well informed, confessed that she could not 
name a single one, but the planchette wrote at one time, 
'' Lohengrin,' ' and a few moments later, ^^Tannhauser.'^ 
It could not name any others except one, and that after 
being told. These and similar cases show, if nothing 
more, that under certain excitation or when some por- 
tions of the brain work without the processes reaching 
consciousness, some impressions, of which we know 
nothing or had long forgotten, make their appearance. 
Memorial Integration and the Mythopoeic Tendency. 
There is no absolutely perfect memory, and of the count- 
less impressions coming to the senses, but few become 
prominent in consciousness; consequently the past re- 
produced in memory is but a meager and faint picture 
with fatal gaps here and there. Since the mind does not 
content* itself with images vibrating, as it were, on the 
threshold of consciousness, imagination spontaneously 
1 Quoted from Ribot, op. cit., p. 180, 



202 THE MENTAL MAN 

and unintentionally brushes up the hardly perceptible 
lines, it fills up the vacant gaps, and casts over the whole 
a harmonizing atmosphere and life-likeness. In other 
words, the mind's eye sees or tends to see things past as 
well as present in complete wholes and not in fragments. 
This was pointed out in the chapter on Fusion and Dis- 
crimination; this we saw to be the essential factor in 
perception; and this is also an important element in 
memory. But the reproduction is not so much a faith- 
ful transcript of the past as it is a new creation involun- 
tarily executed. This fact as well as the liability to err 
in the original perception, should give us an estimate 
regarding the correctness of original observation and its 
reproduction from memory, and should serve as a warn- 
ing against uncritical faith in what we see and hear and 
remember. Much that is current as historical fact is 
essentially fable — the product of the mythopoeic ten- 
dency of the mind. 

Amnesia. The loss of memory is called amnesia, and 
occurs in various forms. The amnesia may concern 
merely a certain period of time from a few hours to sev- 
eral years, or it may involve certain events or senses and 
centers. The visual, the tactile, the muscular, and the 
auditory memories are lost, as indicated above, when 
the respective senses become anaesthetic or their brain- 
centers impaired. Sometimes amnesia comes and goes, 
causing an alternation between two or more systems of 
consciousness; or the amnesia may include, the entire 
mental experience and be absolute and irretraceable. 
Illustrations of amnesia will be found in another chap- 
ter (pp. 252-254). 

Cultivation of Memory. It follows from the above 



MEMORY 203 

analysis, that cultivation of the memory has meaning in 
but a very limited sense. '^By taking thought ^^ we can 
no more add to our mental ^^ stature ^^ than to our physi- 
cal; but there is such a thing as education, a making 
the most of inherent powers, applicable also to memory. 
First of all, it is plain that it must be seen to that the 
brain be properly nourished and kept from fatigue, and 
that there be maintained a sound digestion and healthy, 
vigorous circulation. Facts that we desire to remember 
must be fixed in attention, so that the impression may 
be definite and vivid; they should be correlated with 
other facts, and repeatedly attended to, so that in the 
recall of the impressions, there may be as many avenues 
of approach as possible. How essential thorough as- 
similation of knowledge is to memory, appears from the 
advice given to his sons by Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton, 
recorded in his Memoirs: ^^What you do know, know 
thoroughly. There are few instances in modern times of 
a rise equal to that of Sir Edward Sugden. After one 
of the Weymouth elections I was shut up with him in a 
carriage for twenty-four hours. I ventured to ask him, 
what was the secret of his success; his answer was: 'I 
resolved, when beginning to read law, to make every- 
thing I acquired perfectly my own, and never to go to 
a second thing till I had entirely accomplished the first. 
Many of my competitors read as much in a day as I 
read in a week; but, at the end of twelve months, my 
knowledge was as fresh as on the day it was acquired, 
while their's had ghded away from their recollection.' '' ^ 
Finally the recall must be made as distinct and ac- 

1 Quoted from Porter, Elements of Intellectual Science, New York, 



204 THE MENTAL MAN 

curate as possible^ so as to establish a correct habit. 
Inaccuracy in recall or statement, whether intentional 
or not, is fatal to accurate memory. It is said of Gen- 
eral Grant that he was ^Hediously truthful.^' He would, 
e. g., take the trouble to walk some distance to say to 
an officer, with whom he had been talking, ''I was mis- 
taken when I told you that my conversation with 
Dr occurred inside his tent; that was not cor- 
rect ; it took place while we were standing in front of his 
tent.^^ ^ No one who had ever served with Grant, could 
fail to be impressed with his excellent memory and the 
pains he invariably took to state occurrences with pos- 
itive accuracy. 

Mnemonics. Systen^is of mnemonics, of which there 
are many, have but a limited application, and to the ex- 
tent that they are unnatural, which they all are more or 
less, they are harmful and burdensome to the memory. 

1 Gen. Horace Porter, Campaigning With Grant. 



CHAPTER XIV 
IMAGINATION 

Reproductive and Constructive Imagination. It was 

said that many memories take the form of more or less 
definite images. To the extent that memory brings up 
these pictures, it is imagination. Inversely, all imagina- 
tion implies a reproduction, so to speak, of original sensa- 
tions and feelings. If the reproduction is of an impres- 
sion of a particular thing, as when I definitely picture to 
myself the face of a friend, it may be called reproductive 
imagination; but if the images are freed from the particu- 
lars and have no reference to a special time and place, as 
when Homer pictured a sorceress, Circe, changing the 
companions of Ulysses to swine ; or when he inhabited an 
island with a race of one-eyed giants, and another with 
beings half woman, half fish, whose song was first ecstasy, 
then death, the process employed, may be designated 
free, or constructive imagination. In any case, imagina- 
tion can picture no other qualities than such as were 
originally experienced in sensation or emotion. The poet, 
the novelist, the inventor, as well as the painter and 
sculptor, endow their creations in mind, with colors, 
sounds, outlines, relations, or mental properties, that 
were first experienced by the authors here and there in 
time and space. 

Kinds of Images. The varieties of images correspond 
to the varieties of impressions. Visual imagination yields 

205 



206 • THE MENTAL MAN 

pictures of form^ color, light; auditory imagination, of 
sound; motor imagination, of motion, action, rhythm, 
as represented by sensations of the muscles and joints; 
tactual imagination, of pressure; gustatory imagination, 
of tastes; etc. 

Prominence of some Kinds of Images. Undoubtedly 
every normal person employs images of every kind. 
However, not every type holds an equally important 
place as a thought-factor. The very name ^imagina- 
tion,'' speaks for the prominence of the visual. Some 
types of images are so obscure that we are hardly con- 
scious of their existence. 

Types of Imagination. There is a tendency, moreover, 
in each individual, to employ only one or two forms of 
images in thought to the relative exclusion of the rest. 
A person that thinks, or represents his objects of thought 
in images of sight, is a so-called visuahst; one that 
largely employs representations of touch, as is the case 
when he is blind and deaf, is a tactualist ; one largely em- 
ploying motor images, a motile; images of sound, audile; 
of smell, olfactaire. It matters little in what form the 
original impression was made, the mind has a tendency 
to translate it into a type suited to its habit. Thus the 
visualist hearing a word sounded, will be apt immediately 
to picture it in visual terms, i. e., picture either the ob- 
ject or the written or printed word; and the person in 
whom motor imagination predominates (the motile) will 
be inclined to represent the sounded or written word in 
vocal-motor images. 

Careful investigations, for statistical purposes, have 
been made by Fechner, Galton, James, and others, re- 
garding the imagination of different persons. Of one 



IMAGINATION 207 

hundred cases reported by a recent investigator/ eighty- 
two were predominantly visuahsts, six audiles, four 
motiles, one tactuahst, while five were equally vis- 
ualists and audiles^ and two equally visualists and 
motiles. 

Visual Imagination. The thought and memories of 
strong visualizers abound in images full of color and de- 
tail. The letters of the alphabet, the numerals, days of 
the week, etc., are generally ''schematized,'' i. e., they 
are located in space and are otherwise pictured in various 
ways. Galton says that he has many cases of persons 
reading off scores from the mental image, when playing 
the pianoforte, or the words from the imaged manu- 
script, when making speeches. He has found some few 
persons that see an image in print of every word that is 
uttered; ''they attend to the visual equivalent and not to 
the sound of the words, and they read them off usually 
as from a long imaginary strip of paper, such as is un- 
wound from telegraphic instruments.'' ^ 

One of James' good visuahzers says: "This morning's 
breakfast-table is both dim and bright ; it is dim if I try 
to think of it when my eyes are open upon any object; it 
is perfectly clear and bright if I think of it with my eyes 
closed. ... I have more power to recall color than any 
other one thing: if, for example, I were to recall a plate 
decorated with flowers, I could reproduce in a drawing 
the exact tone, etc. The color of anything that was on 
the table is perfectly vivid. ... I can look down the 
mentally seen page and see the words that commence all 

1 R. H. Stetson, Types of Imagination, Psychological Review, III, 
p. 403. 

2 Inquiries Into Human Faculty^ New York, 1883, p. 96. 



208 THE MENTAL MAN 

the lines, and from any one of these words I can continue 
the Hne." ' 

Auditory Imagination. The class strong in auditory 
imagination is comparatively small. The audiles have 
images of sound, as, e. g., of words and music, where the 
visuahst would have images of the printed page, etc. It 
was probably by means of sound images that Mozart was 
able to write down Miserere after having heard it but 
twice. Perhaps many representations of sounded words 
and music are not in sound but in motor images; i. e., we 
have an image of the sensation arising from the use of the 
vocal organ in producing the sounds, or even of the mus- 
cular and joint sensations occurring while playing the 
music on an instrument. From an account already al- 
luded to, we see that ''of 83 reporting as to how they 
recalled a memorized piece of music, 25 reported by 
auditory, 23 by tactile and motor, and 35 by visual 
images.'' ^ 

Motor Imagination. Motor images are undoubtedly 
employed much more abundantly than was formerly sup- 
posed. The investigations of late ^ show school-children^s 
decided interest in action and the use to which objects 
are put. This interest is probably proportionate to the 
motor images of the child. Beethoven, when quite deaf, 
composed the Ninth Symphony ^ employing as aids in 
its composition various musical instruments. Czermak, 
and later Strieker, have pointed out the fact that when 
imagining an object as quite near, and then abruptly 
picturing one far removed, we will feel a change in the 

1 Principles of Psychology, II, p. 56. 

2 R. H. Stetson, op. cit. 

3 By Professor Barnes, of Stanford University. 



IMAGINATION 209 

eyes, from convergence to parallelism of the visual axes. 
Strieker has also pointed out the difficulty in imagining 
such words as ''bubble'' and ''toddle/' while holding the 
mouth open. Out of one hundred case^ reported to 
Mr. Stetson, sixty employed suppressed articulation in 
reading. 

Tactual Imagination. In the normal person, tactual 
imagination is not very pronounced, and often it seems to 
be lacking entirely. Stetson's statistics enumerate but 
one case out of one hundred examined. "In this case, 
general concepts are not imaged in any way. Dreams 
are almost exclusively tactual. It would be hard to 
imagine a tactual scheme for numbers, yet this man's 
imagination solves the problem easily enough. His 
number-scheme consists of the representation of the series 
of sensations produced by tapping the tips of the fingers 
of the right hand successively upon the surface." ^ 

Tactual and motor images are chiefly employed by the 
blind and blind deaf-mutes, such as Helen Keller and 
Laura Bridgman. A Yale man,^ who is blind, states that 
a geometric proposition is represented to his mind "as 
raised on a piece of paper." Something infinitesimally 
small is pictured by him as a thin piece of paper divided 
and subdivided in his fingers to the minutest degree pos- 
sible. Infinity he imagines as himself in the water with a 
life-preserver on, his face away from the shore and not 
hearing any one, and then swimming on and on without 
ever reaching a resting place, etc.^ Persons, whose sight 
is restored to them, after having been blind, are not able 

1 Op. cit., p. 408. 

2 Alexander Cameron. 

3 Psychological Review, IV, p. 391. 

14 



210 THE MENTAL MAN 

to understand objects as seen, until they represent them 
in imagination in tactual terms. 

Age, Disease, and Training Modifying Factors. The 

power to form mental images is higher in the female than 
in the male, and seems to vary at different periods of life; 
occupation and training may modify it, and disease de- 
stroy it altogether. Early in life the power reaches its 
maximum, then begins gradually to decline as the tend- 
ency to symbolize, or to use the concept for the concrete 
thing increases. Accordingly, Galton found to his aston- 
ishment that the great majority of the men of science, 
whom he first questioned, ''protested that mental imag- 
ery was unknown to them;'' they were as unconscious of 
its true nature as a color-blind man is of the nature of 
color. A patient of Charcot's, who had been a strong 
visualizer, through an injury to his brain, lost this power 
entirely, without perverting any other faculty. Every 
time that he returns to his home town, after having been 
away, he views the monuments, houses, and streets as if 
he had never seen them. He cannot image the principal 
public place of the town, nor his wife and children. ''My 
wife has black hair, this I know," said he, "but I can no 
more recall its color than I can her person and features." ^ 
Several of Stetson's cases reported a difference in their 
imagination when differently occupied. Galton, after a 
little practice, was able to solve simple problems of addi- 
tion and subtraction by images of smell and taste.^ 

1 Quoted from James' Psychology (Briefer Course), New York, 1893, 
p. 309. 

2 Arithmetic by Smell, Psychological Review, I, p. 61. 



CHAPTER XV 
CONCEPTION 

The Consciousness of Meaning. The mind is not a dis- 
interested recipient of various impressions, but besides 
reacting on these, it attaches meaning or significance to 
them. Developed normal human consciousness is in- 
telligent, as may be perceived in the very glance of the 
eye and the words and movements of a person ; that is to 
say, every normal person understands his surroundings 
for practical purposes, and his acts are then adapted to 
them. When he is no longer able to perceive the meaning 
of his experiences, bewilderment follows. 

Conception. The mental process that gives meaning to 
our experiences is conception. At first the sensations and 
perceptions that come to us are meaningless. Let us sup- 
pose that one of the earhest impressions is that of the 
mother's eye. At first it means absolutely nothing to the 
infant. It calls up no recollections, suggests nothing, and 
is related to nothing. In time, however, the eye is recog- 
nized and distinguished from other objects; it suggests 
various facts, and its similarity to other eyes is recog- 
nized — in short, the child has gained the idea of an eye. 
That impression, at first meaningless, has developed into 
a significant thing, and the process that has done this is 
that of conception. 

Conception Defined. In general we m_ay say of concep- 
tion that it is a selective and eliminating power, which 

211 



212 THE MENTAL MAN 

has gradually evolved in the race, and primarily served 
man to adapt himself to his environment. It is concep- 
tion that classifies our countless impressions under vari- 
ous concepts, or ideas, and by that very act extends our 
knowledge of the world. For example, when we have 
once formed the idea of fire, we need not thrust our fin- 
gers into every flame we afterwards come to in order to 
know that it burns, as that is implied in the very concept 
of fire. It is apparent that without the concept we would 
not know that the fire of today will burn our fingers, in 
spite of the fact that we had been burned many times 
before. Thus we see that conception is a teleological 
process that serves to simplify our experiences and give 
us knowledge of the world. 

Discrimination in Conception. Conception involves 
several distinguishable stages. It involves discrimination 
of objects, qualities, or mental states. Everything is not 
the same. This thing is different from that, the horse 
from the dog, blue from red, etc. There are different in- 
dividuals, qualities, and experiences. 

Conception a Relating Activity. Conception involves 
also a perception of similarity and relationship in the 
midst of differences. While the horse is different from 
the dog, they are, nevertheless, in some respects alike. 
Both horse and dog eat, breathe, move, etc. They are 
animals, hence related both in fact and in thought. 
Conception is a relating activity. When we conceive 
animal of this, that, and other objects, we virtually class 
them, or relate them to each other. 

Conception an Eliminating and Selective Process. Con- 
ception is an eliminating and selective process. While 
differences and similarity are perceived, the latter is 



CONCEPTION 213 

kept in the foreground of consciousness for use, and the 
differences are dismissed or suppressed because they can 
serve no end. When we conceive animal we retain in 
thought for our purposes just those quahties and char- 
acteristics in which hes the hkeness in the horse and dog; 
and when we conceive the mouse as an animal also, it is 
by selecting these same qualities and characteristics that 
were seen in the horse and dog, viz., spontaneous move- 
ment, breathing, etc. 

Conception a Creative Process. Conception has for 
its end the formation of an object of thought, usually 
called concept, general notion, or idea. Conception is 
the process, and its product is the concept. Conception, 
therefore, is a creative process. It produces a world of 
thought-objects, all related to the mind and to each 
other. Only to the extent that we have conceived, or 
created the world in our thoughts, to that extent is the 
world intelligible to us. Perception is of this and that 
thing, while conception regards this and that as trees, 
or men, or something else, hence imparts meaning to the 
perception; or as Kant puts it: ''Perceptions without 
concepts are Wind.'' ^ When we have a mere percept of 
an object it stands for nothing, is related to nothing, and 
means nothing. Yet as soon as the mind conceives an 
object as a lamp or a knife or something else, then it is 
"placed in the world and our experience, and has meaning. 

The Concept Universal — Conception and Imagination. 
Of the concept there is to be noted the following: The 
concept is universal, or general in its application. In 
this respect it is just the opposite from the percept, which 
is of individual, concrete things. When we see a man^ 

^ Kritik, p. 75. 



214 THE MENTAL MAN 

the percept is of a particular individual, yet when we 
conceive man^ it is neither this nor that man in partic- 
ular, but all and any beings that possess the qualities 
and characteristics that are implied in the term. To be 
sure, generally our concepts come to us as images, — au- 
ditory, visual, motor, or of some other sense. Man ap- 
pears to us perhaps as a white man and not a Fiji Is- 
lander; or perhaps the idea presents itself as a motor 
image. When we conceive horse, it may be one of defi- 
nite size and color. Whatever be the images employed 
in conception, they have the definiteness of ordinary men- 
tal images. Now the name or image that symbolizes the 
concept is particular, but the concept itself is meaning 
and therefore universal in application. When we say, 
this is an apple, we assert that our meaning of apple is 
exemplified in this concrete object, hence call it apple 
also. 

Realism and Nominalism. The concept exists only 
for and in mind. This tree and that exist outside of the 
mind, as we perceive, but outside of the mind there is no 
thing corresponding to the general idea of tree. Plato 
and the ReaHsts, as those ideaUsts were called, ascribed 
real existence to concepts. There is somewhere in the 
universe (maintained the Reahsts from Plato down with 
great warmth), the general idea of tree, which is even 
more real than the trees that we perceive through the 
senses. This view was disputed with equal vigor by the 
Nominahsts. These maintained that concepts are only 
names, and cannot exist independently and before the 
particular things. 

Language Symbolized Conception. We said that the 
concept is a thought-object. Thought-objects hke sense- 



CONCEPTION 215 

objects (things) are named. While the names of things 
are particular (the proper nouns of grammar), the 
names of concepts are class-names (common nouns and 
pronouns) and words expressing action (verbs), relation 
(prepositions), and quaUty and manner (adjectives and 
adverbs). In fact, were the conceptual words taken out 
of a language, what is left (the interjections and proper 
nouns) would not deserve the name of language. Lan- 
guage is virtually symbolized conception. 

Language an Aid to Conception. It should not be for- 
gotten, however, that language is an aid of incalculable 
value to conception. Language the symbol conserves, 
as it were, the concepts, not only for the individual but 
for a people. By means of language the conceptual Ufe 
of one generation is transmitted to the next. We can 
thus understand how progress in thought in the case of 
an individual as well as of a whole people must be ex- 
ceedingly slow unless there comes to assistance the be- 
neficent influence of a highly developed language. It is 
no wonder, then, that races of earliest record, felt that 
language was a direct gift from the Lord of creation. 

The expansion, appUcation, and relations of concepts 
will be treated more or less in the next two chapters. 



CHAPTER XVI 
THINKING 

Distinctive Characteristic of Man. The power to think 
consequentially and intricately is, no doubt, a heri- 
tage of man alone. That animals often adapt their 
acts to definite ends in novel circumstances, shows, un- 
doubtedly, that they think in simple relations and have 
some conception, yet in so small a measure that practi- 
cally to man alone belongs the attribute of thinking, 
rational. Though man is impelled and directed by nat- 
ural instincts and impulses in his main activities, as has 
been seen, there is no phase of his life where thought, 
judgment, or reason, is not amply manifested. The 
history of civihzation, or the progress of the race from 
most primitive conditions to the age of spiritual and ma- 
terial complexity, is largely the story of thought. 

Thinking Defined. By thinking, in the broader sense, 
is meant a self-movement of consciousness, whether it 
be a revery, phantasy, an association of ideas though 
ever so loose, or a strict adherence to logical processes. 
But more accurately speaking, to deserve the name of 
thinking, the movement of consciousness must have 
an end in view and be directed by will according to 
judgment. Unless there is an aim at the attainment of 
some view or truth, whether it be the development of 
some subject in itself or the enrichment of the concept 
by estabhshing newly perceived relations, there can be 

1210 



THINKING 217 

no directing by will; and, given an end, the movement 
toward it must be selective^ critical, if the end is ever to 
be attained. 

Two Kinds of Thought-Movement. Thought may be 
about things, qualities, and relations real or imaginary, 
which as objects of thought are particular, concrete, yet 
the thought itself is carried on by means of concepts. 
The thought-movement is in two general directions, viz., 
(1) movement for broader concepts, a generahzation or 
unification of particular experiences under law, or gen- 
eral principle; and (2) movement for speciahzation, or 
the application of the general concept to the special, 
the particular. These two processes of thought are 
called respectively inductive and deductive reasoning. 

History of Deduction and Induction. Historically, de- 
duction is the first to receive formal recognition as a 
means of attaining truth. Aristotle, the founder of the 
science of logic, did not recognize induction to any con- 
siderable extent, and finally it was disregarded alto- 
gether. It was reserved for Francis Bacon to bring in- 
duction into prominence in logic, and we might say that 
now it predominates as a method for increasing our 
knowledge of the world and mind. 

Induction. Induction is the very warp and woof of 
science. We cannot evolve the universe out of our con- 
sciousness, as was formerly supposed. To know what 
this world is in which we are placed, and to know our- 
selves we m.ust observe facts. All knowledge progresses 
by experience. Perception of objects follows sensa- 
tions, and conception having content follows sensation 
and perception. The essence of the inductive method 
is to observe particular, concrete facts, and from such 



218 THE MENTAL MAN 

to derive general principles or laws, because as a matter 
of fact, the particular contains the general, or else the 
general could not be derived from any number of par- 
ticular cases. For example, Newton observed bodies 
left without support falling to the ground. Newton in- 
ferred that if that is a characteristic or property of 
bodies here, then it includes the moon and all other 
celestial bodies. He began figuring and found that the 
curve which the moon describes can be accounted for by 
the falling of that satelhte from the tangent of its orbit 
toward the earth. Hence was estabhshed the law of 
universal gravitation. And so it is with all scientific dis- 
coveries. Thus all science, in its first requirement, is a 
study about special, concrete facts, and in them it dis- 
covers the universal, which we denominate principle or 
law. It begins with things and ends in thought or mean- 
ing. 

Induction as Conception. From this explanation it is 
apparent that induction is but a higher and intentional 
process of conception. As conception, so to speak, is 
broadened and enriched by experience of a simpler and 
more spontaneous kind, for the most part, so induction, 
with full purpose and systematic observation, including 
experimentation, enriches and deepens our previous and 
simpler concepts. 

Deduction. Deductive reasoning consists in con- 
sciously estabhshing relations between judgments (spe- 
ciahzed concepts) by means of a so-called middle term. 
If A is B, and B is C, we deduce the conclusion that A 
is C. While C included A even before it was perceived 
as a fact, the conscious relation of ^ to C had to be estab- 
lished through the medium of the common term, JS. 



THINKING 219 

Deduction Compared with Perception. In every proc- 
ess of deduction we note that a synthesis of judgments 
has been effected previously not existing {A is C), and 
further we are conscious of the ground (B) on which the 
process has been effected. In this respect deductive 
reasoning differs from simple perception and intuition. 
We have seen that in perception there is also an associa- 
tion or synthesis of certain immediately given elements 
with others not sensed. But this perceptive synthesis 
is spontaneous and immediate, and brings the thing 
perceived before consciousness as if it were sensed in all 
respects. To be sure, a perception may be described as 
a logical process. For example, ^^ apple.'' All round 
bodies of a given size, color, etc., are apples. This body 
has all of these characteristics; therefore it is an apple. 
But we are positive that in consciousness there is no 
such lengthy process of ratiocination, but rather (sym- 
bolized in physiological terms) perception is a spon- 
taneous neurone-discharge along the entire brain-tracts 
produced by the object. 

Deduction a Specialization of Concepts. As induction 
is but a higher form of conception, so deduction is a 
process of mediation that makes explicit the implicit re- 
lations of concepts. Deductive reasoning applies the 
truth contained in the more general proposition, which 
was obtained by induction, to special instances. 

Importance of Deduction. When we have the gen- 
eral fact, or principle, which obtains with a class of 
things, and is called the major proposition, we have 
much, yet it is also important to know its meaning ap- 
pUed to particular cases. Much obscurity, superstition, 
and inconsistency of belief and deed are due, not so 



220 THE MENTAL MAN 

much to inadequate education and ignorance of prin-, 
ciples^ as to a failure or an inability properly to apply 
these to special cases. Said a young wife to me: ^^My 
husband has to work so hard. When he comes home in 
the evening after a hard day's work, he has to milk 
fourteen cows.'' I suggested that she might lighten his 
burden a little by helping him with the milking. '^I 
wouldn't milk for any man!" ^^You don't love him/'^ 
I ventured to say. ''Love him!" she cried. ''I wor- 
ship the ground he walks on!" If some master-logician 
were to hold up to us the inconsistencies of our lives, of 
which we are constantly and unwittingly guilty, we 
would find ourselves great offenders indeed. 

Relation of Induction and Deduction. Induction and 
deduction, although representing two different thought- 
movements, are nevertheless very closely related. In- 
duction expands the concept, furnishes the general fact, 
while deduction applies the fact to particular cases, as 
stated before. But in arriving at a general fact, we are 
also enriching the particulars from which the general was 
derived; for by so doing, we perceive a universal element 
in the particulars; and in deducing a truth in respect to 
a particular thing, we are likewise making the general 
more significant. When by induction we reach the gen- 
eral proposition. All organic matter is oxidizable, we see 
the particular instances from which this truth was de- 
rived in a new light. Again, when we deduce that be- 
cause in another instance a substance is oxidizable on 
the ground that it is organic, we are giving broader sig- 
nificance to the general law. It is in this sense that we 
can say that induction and deduction are two different 
phases of the same act. At any rate, in thinking, neither 



THINKING 221 

one nor the other process is employed alone, but both are 
used, one supplementing the other. 

Mysticism. Not all conclusions are reached by the or- 
dinary methods. Mysticism, as a disposition of the mind, 
tends to introduce in thought principles not derived 
from induction and ratiocination or the ordinary chan- 
nels of knowledge, but furnished principally by feeling 
and fancy. ^ Feeling superimposes itself or puts its defi- 
nite impress, as it were, upon intellect, and thus the 
mystic, in his thought, starts from propositions that may 
seem eminently true to himself but may not be perceived 
by others except as mystical. Mysticism does not neces- 
sarily exclude vahd reasoning; for, the philosophic teach- 
ings of some of the most distinguished thinkers in the 
world, such as Plato, Plotinus, Spinoza, Schelling, and 
Master Eckhart, have been mystical. Nor are the prop- 
ositions of mysticism necessarily devoid of truth; for, 
no doubt, ''there are more things in heaven and earth, 
than are dreamed of in our philosophy.'' In fact, the 
great propositions of religion and ethics may, in some 
respects, properly be regarded as postulates, not of in- 
duction, but of feeling, hence mystical. 

Notwithstanding, mysticism has no place in science, 
except as a phenomenon that is to be explained, since 
the approved and only reliable methods of science are 
induction primarily and deduction next.^ 

1 Cf. p. 127 ff. 

2 Ethics, the fundamental principle of which is the reality of ob- 
ligation, is a science. Religious phenomena, however, have just 
begun to be treated scientifically. First attempts in this direction 
are E. D. Starbuck's The Psychology of Religion, New York, 1900, 
and William James' The Varieties of Religigus Experience, New York, 
1902. 



222 THE MENTAL MAN 

Intuition. Occasionally we are confronted with a phe- 
nomenon designated intuition. In this the mind rec- 
ognizes at a glance or a bound, as it were, things and 
relations, that usually require a train of reasoning. This 
immediate recognition is a ^^ blind leap to a conclusion"; 
we feel certain that we are right in our conclusion but can- 
not assign the reason. Intuition of a marked kind is seen 
in a few rare persons. A number of such cases are on rec- 
ord, of which there may be mentioned here a mathemat- 
ical prodigy named Zera Colburn, '^a child under eight 
years of age, who without any previous knowledge of the 
common rules of arithmetic, or even of the use and power 
of the Arabic numerals and without having given any at- 
tention to the subject, possesses, as if by intuition, the 
singular faculty of solving a great variety of arithmetical 
questions by the mere operation of the mind, and without 
the usual assistance of any visible symbol or contrivance.'' 
For example, at a meeting of friends of his father the 
child raised 8^ progressively to the 16th power, naming 
correctly the last result, which was 281,474,976,710,656.^ 

Intuition and Reasoning. Intuition is like reasoning 
in that it has a conclusion, which is known. Intuition, 
too, we may beheve, is a mediating process that leads 
to the conclusion, just as there is a process of a kind in 
perception, but the process does not cross the threshold 
of consciousness. 
1 Quoted from Hudson's Law of Psychic Phenomena^ Chicago, 1894. 



CHAPTER XVII 
KNOWLEDGE 

The Problem of Knowledge. One of the most exten- 
sively discussed problems in the psychology of the past is 
that of knowledge. Though to practical thought nothing 
seems plainer, yet subjected to analysis it is indeed diffi- 
cult to answer the question, What is knowledge? In this 
brief chapter we cannot hope to do more than to touch 
upon a few of the points involved. 

At the outset we must distinguish the elements of 
knowledge and those mental processes that are con- 
cerned with the elements resulting in an established rela- 
tion that is called knowledge. 

Elements of Knowledge. The elements of knowledge 
are all those simple states of consciousness that admit of 
being related. Any mental experience that cannot be 
taken up in a relating process and thus become a matter 
of the understanding, cannot be called an element of 
knowledge. Usually psychologists deny to feelings and 
volitions that characteristic, hence do not include them 
among the elements of knowledge. Yet this view, it 
seems to us, denies the very principle of knowledge — the 
principle of relativity. To be sure, an individual's feel- 
ings are strictly his own, and can signify nothing par- 
ticularly to any other individual; but it has much sig- 
nificance to the subject who experiences it as his own. 
A feeling may be as much an object of knowledge as the 

223 



224 THE MENTAL MAN 

thing (sensation-group) that is the occasion of the feel- 
ing, but with this difference : the feehng is alone for the 
individual to perceive, real yet evanescent, important yet 
often uncertain, while the thing — the sensation-group — 
is for every individual definite and constant under pre- 
cisely the same environment. All hear the bell, and see 
it swing in the belfry. So especially sensations are the 
elements of knowledge, because the mind eminently in- 
volves them in those relating, constructive, and analytic 
processes, that have already been described as percep- 
tion, fusion and discrimination, conception and reason- 
ing. So important is sensation to knowledge that it is 
no wonder that a certain school of psychology, called 
the Sensationalists, derived the whole mind with all its 
contents from sensations. 

Knowledge expresses Relation. But the elements of 
knowledge are not knowledge any more than a heap of 
stones and timber is, a house. Knowledge must express a 
relation. The pulse of consciousness that we may 
imagine as throbbing through the mind of an infant as 
the first ray of light strikes its eyes, is as yet not knowl- 
edge, until the mind may say to itself: I recognize it; 
or: It is pleasant to me; it is bright; it is light. But 
such a proposition is much more than a mere sensation of 
light. This and not that is light, and not sound or taste. 
Besides sensation in this and perception, there are dis- 
crimination, conception, judgment, — all of which imply 
or express a relation. Moreover, in these activities mem- 
ory is involved. In fact, no one single idea, or experience, 
can be knowledge until it is somehow perceived in rela- 
tion to some other. 

Knowledge and Conception. If, then, what was said in 



KNOWLEDGE 225 

the two preceding chapters is true, — viz., that when per- 
ceptions are freed from the particular, concrete, special 
elements, they result in a general idea, or concept, and 
that the two processes of reasoning, induction and de- 
duction, are processes of expanding concepts, or deter- 
mining their import, — then the end and goal of all in- 
tellectual processes, as such, is the concept. Whatever 
understanding or knowledge we have Hes in the concept 
or is concerned in its modification. What, then, is true 
of the conditions and development of the concept, ap- 
plies directly to knowledge. 

Growth of Knowledge. It follows that there can be no 
leaps in acquiring knowledge. Knowledge cannot be 
poured into the mind as we can transfer matter from one 
place to another. A certain linguist said that a foreign 
language cannot be taught; it must be learned. It might 
be added, nothing else can be taught. The new and the 
unknown must be brought into vital relation with the 
mind and its content. In fact, to regard knowledge as 
something outside of and apart from mind, is erroneous. 
For if knowledge is anything at all, it is the mind func- 
tioning in a certain manner, and the acquisition of new 
knowledge is the expansion or development of the mind 
itself expressive of its experiences and reactions to what 
we call an external world — it is the growth of the concept. 
In these facts lie the gist and substance of the much and 
lengthily discussed problem of apperception — a term, 
by the way, which can be dispensed with in psy- 
chology. Either new material, so to speak, is taken up 
under an old concept, or else the old concept is modi- 
fied by the new material; and if neither one nor the 
other applies, then the words of the great Teacher 
15 



226 THE MENTAL MAN 

must hold : They have eyes and see not; and ears and 
hear not. 

When the Union Pacific Railway was built across the 
plains^ the steam-locomotive did not arouse wonder and 
interest in the Indian, — it was altogether too far re- 
moved from his stock-concepts. There was nothing in 
the engine that he could associate with his other ideas, 
but when the telegraph lines began to be put up, and 
men climbed up the poles with iron chmbers, whole bands 
of natives followed the line-men for hundreds of miles to 
see them climb. Here was something new, yet it con- 
tained a sufficiently old and familiar element, so as to 
be comprehensible and interesting. The Indian chief in 
Alaska, who had seen the white men carry their provi- 
sions in the form of canned goods, when shown a phono- 
graph in operation for the first time, looked it over from 
every side, and concluded that it was '^canned white 
man.'' The explanation sufficed for him. His concept 
^'canned'' permitted the expansion as to include the 
human voice, etc. Quite different was the explanation 
of the same object by a French savant. ^'I was present 
one day,'' says the distinguished French astronomer 
Flammarion, '^at a meeting of the Academy of Sciences. 
It was a day to be remembered, for its proceedings were 
absurd. DuMoncel introduced Edison's phonograph to 
the learned assembly. When the presentation had been 
made, the proper person began quietly to recite the usual 
formula as he registered it upon his roll. Then a middle- 
aged academician, whose mind was stored — nay, satu- 
rated — with traditions drawn from his culture in the 
classics, rose, and, nobly indignant at the audacity of the 
inventor, rushed towards the man who representee* Edi- 



KNOWLEDGE 227 

son, and seized him by the collar, crying : ' Wretch ! We 
are not to be made dupes of by a ventriloquist ! ' This 
member of the Institute was Monsieur Bouillaud. The 
day was the 11th of March, 1878. The most curious 
thing about it was that six months later, on Septem- 
ber 30th, before a similar assembly, the same man con- 
sidered himself bound in honor to declare that after a 
close examination he could find nothing in the invention 
but ventriloquism, and Hhat it was impossible to admit 
that mere vile metal could perform the work of human 
phonation.' '' ^ 

Knowledge Understood. Real knowledge, it is to be 
noted, is always understood. For example, we are told 
that the revolution of the moon about the earth is due 
to the two forces of momentum and gravity. We may 
be able to repeat this statement accurately, and assent 
to it, yet to understand it we must know what are mo- 
mentum and gravity, and then be able to combine the 
two in thought in such a manner that the resultant of 
the two forces is necessarily seen as a circular motion. 
Accepting without understanding is not knowledge. 
It does not elicit response of the whole mind with its 
content. Failiire to understand indicates a failure of the 
facts to fit any concept. This is one difference between 
knowledge and belief. 

Reality in Knowledge and Belief. Belief is not knowl- 
edge, yet we believe in the validity of knowledge. The 
objective reality of that which we know or believe has 
no bearing upon the distinction between belief and 
knowledge. For what we know may be true or not, the 
same as what we believe. To be sure, inasmuch as be- 

1 The Unknown, New York and London, 1902, pp. 3 and 4. 



228 THE MENTAL MAN 

lief comprehends vastly more than knowledge, i. e., we 
believe more than we know, it follows that knowledge 
is vastly more reliable than belief as presenting to the 
mind objective reality. Yet even knowledge is not 
necessarily vahd, as judged by an ultimate criterion of 
reality and truth. For even the history of science dis- 
closes a series of error and misconception mixed with 
truth. For illustrations we need not go back far either, 
but take present-day facts. After years of absolute con- 
viction concerning the universality of gravitation, scien- 
tists are meeting difficulties that raise the question 
whether or not gravity is but a phenomenon of a force 
behind the phenomenon. After the recent discovery of 
radium the older view of the chemical atom must be 
abandoned, and even more far-reaching reconstructions 
in scientific concepts are hinted at. But this does not 
change knowledge as a mental fact, as explained above; 
it simply points out the fact that the difference between 
belief and knowledge is not of kind but of degree, inas- 
much as even knowledge implies and is belief, fortified 
with and incorporated into the stock-concepts of the 
mind. 

Let us now very briefly consider certain ideas or forms 
of knowledge or belief, viz., the reality of things, time 
and space, and cause and effect. 

The Idea of Reality. We believe the world and the 
things in it to be most real. Now reality as such is not 
perceived by the senses. We perceive only color, Weight, 
light, sound, and smell, and it is a most pertinent ques- 
tion, whence the sense of reality, of substance, behind 
these phenomena? The answer is that the sense of 
reality and the belief in substance, which no man has 



KNOWLEDGE 229 

ever seen, spring from the nature of consciousness. 
The reahty-sense inheres in the nature of some forms 
of consciousness, due, probably, to the vividness, cer- 
tain quality, and persistency of the mental experience, 
and the absence of contradictions. Sensations eminently 
possess these characteristics and put us in knowledge of 
a most real world, which is the occasion of the sensa- 
tions. However, hallucination does quite as much to 
arouse the sense of reality, even though the mind may 
perceive contradictions and understand the nature of 
the mental affection. In the hypnotic state and in 
dreaming, the sense of reality prevails concerning every- 
thing, even the most absurd, not because the forms of 
consciousness prevailing in these states possess that 
quality, vividness, and persistency, just spoken of, but 
because of the complete absence of the critical judg- 
ment. The dream-world stands most real and substan- 
tial until wakefulness restores critical power and shows 
contradictions. The sense of reality, then, we should 
say, is produced by a domination more or less complete 
(as further set forth in the chapter on Suggestion) of 
certain impressions or ideas in the mind. This reality- 
feeling may be either augmented or reduced by the use 
of certain drugs, or it is sometimes entirely destroyed by 
disease. 

The Ideas of Time and Space. The ideas of time and 
space are likewise positive and definite. Time expresses 
sequence of events, and space, relation of objects; yet 
aside from events and objects we think of time and space 
as infinite, without beginning and without end. They 
are not caused and not causes, nor can we think them 
away. They are real, and yet they are not the same 



230 THE MENTAL MAN 

kind of a reality as objects. We cannot even think of 
ourselves and objects without employing the ideas of 
time and space. 

It is apparent that this knowledge of time and space 
is not derived as knowledge of things is derived, viz., by 
experience through the senses (a ^posteriori). Years of 
observation and study are needed before we know the 
world of things even superficially, yet as soon as we come 
to the consciousness of time and space at all, which, to 
be sure, comes about by definite experience of sensation 
and general mental activity, we have the knowledge of 
them in completeness, and no amount of experience adds 
or alters in the least our ideas of their attributes. That 
being the case, the knowledge of time and space must be 
intuitive, a priori, i. e., simultaneous with consciousness, 
especially with perception. In other words, the mind 
thinks, perceives, and conceives events, things, and self, 
temporally and spatially. The mind functioning gives 
form to its materials; it leaves its impress of time and 
space upon its ideas, just as the potter leaves his finger- 
marks upon the plastic clay in his hands. This means 
that time and space, as we know them, exist only in the 
mind, which is ''the immortal discovery'' of Kant. Un- 
doubtedly this is hard to concede, and absurd to many. 
For, it may be said, we cannot even think of a timeless 
and spaceless universe ! It is utterly unimaginable ! Ex- 
actly. The mind cannot think and imagine without em- 
ploying the ideas of time and space. That would be 
asking the mind to act other than itself; it would be re- 
quiring the impossible. 

The Idea of Cause and Effect. The idea of causality 
is the conviction we have that every effect must have an 



KNOWLEDGE 231 

adequate cause. From nothing, nothing can come. A 
given cause will invariably produce a certain effect. 
Whatever exists has its antecedent conditions, be it the 
work of man or nature. This is true not only here but 
it must also be true anywhere else, though billions of 
world-cycles removed. The conservation and correla- 
tion of energy is the great creed of science. No energy 
can be destroyed or put out of existence, because energy 
is an efficient cause that must have an effect, which in 
turn is a cause for another effect, and so ad infinitum. 
Now whence this conviction? 

Hume, subjecting the idea of causality to criticism, 
came to the conclusion that it is all derived from ex- 
perience. We see one event immediately following an- 
other. The billiard ball striking another, imparts mo- 
tion to the second, and this holds as far as observation 
goes, but in no case are we aware that an influence or 
energy passes from the first — the cause, to the second — 
the effect. So far as we know there is no necessary con- 
nection between cause and effect. Yet whence the idea 
of necessity, of compulsion? Hume answers that hav- 
ing observed that one event invariably follows another, 
a habit of anticipation is established in the mind, which 
is felt as necessity. This view, it seems, but partially 
explains the matter, when we consider the very small 
amount of experience in comparison with the infinite 
vastness and ineradicableness of the conviction concern- 
ing causality. After the idea of causality is once awak- 
ened, experience does not add to it either as to its 
universality or its necessity ; it merely finds definite ap- 
phcation and differentiations of the principle. Therefore 
the conclusion is thrust upon us that causality is a prin- 



232 THE MENTAL MAN 

ciple of the mind — a mode of conceiving our own acts 
and the events of our world. As to the objective va- 
Hdity of cause and effect, which does not particularly 
concern us here, we can only say, that the conviction 
is unavoidable that the whole universe stands related 
in all its parts. In fact, philosophically speaking, it has 
no parts — it is a whole standing in universal relationship, 
in which a change here, though ever so small, means a 
universal change. 



CHAPTER XVIII 
SUGGESTION 

Contraction and Expansion of Living Cell. We find 
that the simplest living cell, a minute mass of protoplasm, 
when in any way disturbed or stimulated by a foreign 
body, contracts. It also has a corresponding expansive 
power, which is operative in certain of its functions. 
As we ascend the scale, passing from the simpler life to 
the higher and more complex, we everywhere find the 
same contractile and expansive movements, or rather 
differentiated forms of these, which appear on the pres- 
ence of the proper stimuli. The more complex the or- 
ganism is, the more complicated the reactions are fol- 
lowing a stimulation. All emotional waves, affecting 
more or less perceptibly the whole body, and all impul- 
sive and instinctive movements and acts, are reactions 
from sense- stimuli or centrally originated ideas. The 
latent energy that is stored in the cell is set free, or dis- 
charged, by the stimulus; and the kind of emotional at- 
titude, impulse, or instinct that appears, is determined 
by the center that is affected by the stimulus. The 
stimulus may cause the organism to startle, tremble, 
shriek, to be momentarily paralyzed, etc.; or, on the 
other hand, to assume a defensive or aggressive attitude. 
In general terms, all sensitive organisms, from the low- 
est to the highest, respond or react to certain stimuli. 

Tendency of Sensory Stimuli to be Converted into 

233 



234 THE MENTAL MAN 

Outgoing Impulses — Thought and Movement. Further- 
more, the tendency of the nerve-centers to convert in- 
coming stimuH into outgoing impulses, in the case of 
higher organisms, continues even where the stimuli 
arouse consciousness, although the consciousness tends 
to modify the outgoing impulse. Even when conscious- 
ness is aroused, as is the case in thinking, there are con- 
tinual changes taking place in the whole body. James 
has rightly said that all consciousness, if sufficiently in- 
tense, is impulsive. Experiment shows that not only 
are the voluntary muscles affected, but also the whole 
vascular system, the various secretory glands, the blad- 
der, the pupils, respiration, and the alimentary organs. 
The blush or pallor that mounts one^s cheeks is easily 
noticed, but when the disturbance is not so strong, the 
plathysmograph may note the variations of the pulse. 
The ordinary coarser muscular movements are plain, but 
the ^^ muscle readers ^^ — often claiming to be ^^mind read- 
ers'^ — endowed with hypersesthesia, or over-sensitiveness, 
can detect and interpret, to a certain extent, the infini- 
tesimal movements of the muscles that result from and 
accompany thoughts and feelings. We have seen in 
former chapters ^ how attention and imagination of cer- 
tain types involve actual or suppressed motor modifica- 
tions. 

This tendency carried out a little farther is illustrated 
by overt acts, such as actually moving the lips when 
reading to oneself, or even audibly expressing one's pass- 
ing thoughts; or by gesture and pantomimic representa- 
tion, so profuse with some individuals and nationalities. 
Unconscious movements of the hand corresponding to 

Pp. 56, 208, 



SUGGESTION 235 

various ideas^ such as of space-direction or of form or 
motion capable of imitation, may be graphically reg- 
istered. Quite reahstic is the story in the Arabian 
Nights, of the porcelain dealer, who, while waiting for 
customers, pictures out to himself how he is going to 
grow wealthy by degrees, and then marry a lady, with 
whom he is going to inhabit a palace, and how, if she 
will not obey him, he will kick her out of it — and here 
he kicks over into fragments his whole wealth — a 
basket full of porcelain ware. 

Continually we are impelled to execute our ideas. The 
modern view that ''the idea of a movement is already the 
beginning of that movement, ^^ ^ is borne out on every 
hand. No sooner thought than done, is the rule in 
trivial matters. Standing on a high place suggests leap- 
ing down; a solemn assembly suggests laughing or shout- 
ing; a window of an uninhabited house out of the way, 
becomes a temptation to the small boy to try his throw- 
ing ability. An acquaintance of the writer could not 
cross a bridge without fearing that he might yield to the 
impulse to throw into the river below whatever he might 
be carrying. It is the thought of the consequences or 
principle, coming as a counter-suggestion, that acts as a 
restraining or an inhibitory force. In abnormal condi- 
tions, ideas or concepts often come into the mind with 
imperative force, and lodge there until the impulse is 
carried out, or the abnormal condition removed. Thus 
are to be accounted for the insane homicidal impulses, 
certain forms of kleptomania (irresistible impulse to 
steal), and pyromania (the mania to set things on fire). 
Imitation. Imitation is also to be explained by the 
1 Baldwin, Mental Development, New York, 1903, p. 167. 



236 THE MENTAL MAN 

mind^s tendency to convert immediately ideas derived 
from without into movements. This instinct is particu- 
larly strong in persons whose inhibitory power is unde- 
veloped, as in children and imbeciles. The perceived act 
or condition suggests the realization of it in respect to 
self, and unless there is an inhibition, there will be imme- 
diate imitation. 

Inhibition. No one completely or even very largely;^ 
inhibits the impulses and instinctive acts suggested by 
ideas. It is only he that has self-control in an eminent 
degree who eliminates those acts that are judged irra- 
tional, immoral, and imprudent. 

The Reality-Feeling. Again, every state of conscious- 
ness, aroused either by an outward or inward stimulus, 
appears to itself as an indubitable fact. It contains the 
reality-feeling, and so the content of consciousness is also 
regarded as most real, unless contradictions appear. 
During childhood we live in the most real of worlds. 
Every fairy tale brought to our attention, our thoughts 
and most extravagant fancies have an air of reality. 
Belief in them is dispelled only upon perceiving serious 
contradiction, which arises from the use of our various 
senses, and from comparison of our fancies with our ex- 
periences with the actual world. And as long as the 
reality-feeling continues in respect to any mental states, 
so long our acts are suggested and determined by them. 
When an adult person loses his critical power, he be- 
comes entirely unfit for the world, and he must be placed 
in charge of a warden so that his needs may be looked 
after and he may be kept from harmful acts. 

Suspension of Critical Power. In normal health, the 
critical attitude is suspended during natural, somnambu- 



SUGGESTION 237 

listic, and hypnotic ^^ sleep/' In these states, when any 
consciousness is present, the reahty-feeling is again 
dominant. In dream-Hfe all ideas, images, and relations 
are felt as substantial and real, and the dreamer enters 
into the spirit to the extent that the train of associations 
is vivid. In somnambulism (the sleep of the ^^ sleep- 
walker^^) the subject often manifests unusual mental 
activity, remarkable acumen of the senses, and extraor- 
dinary skill in the execution of his ideas. Thus a som- 
nambule may get up, dress himself, and perform vari- 
ous acts often of a delicate and complicated character. 
Poets will write verses, musicians compose, mechanics 
ply their trade, and all this often in the dark or with eyes 
closed. 

How Hypnosis is Induced. Similar, in several respects, 
to the somnambuHstic sleep, is the hypnotic state. This 
state is brought about by the ^^ narrowing of conscious- 
ness '^ so that everything be excluded but the operator. 
A word or a pass by him, or fixing of the subject's eyes 
on a bright object, may induce the hypnotic state, in 
which the latter beheves all things and becomes perfectly 
consistent with any suggestion that may be made. 
Whatever method be employed in hypnotization, it must 
mean that the surroundings and all that is said and done 
by the operator are to conduce to the focusing of the 
subject's consciousness to the narrowest field. All dis- 
tracting elements should be put away. Monotony should 
prevail. All thoughts but one should be suppressed and 
the entire attention fixed upon some one thing, viz., that 
of going into the hypnotic sleep. All passes and com- 
mands by the operator should be with a view to narrow- 
ing consciousness down to the smallest range. Any per- 



238 THE MENTAL MAN 

son who cannot fix his attention for some length of time 
cannot be hypnotized, because his mental processes can- 
not be restrained sufficiently. 

Hypnosis Defined and Described. When, however, the 
narrowing process has sufficiently advanced, then the 
subject has entered the state of hypnosis. Suggest to a 
person at such a time that he is his own grandfather and 
he will forthwith assume that role. Ask him any question 
and he will answer as his grandfather might have an- 
swered. Tell him that he is a clown or a kangaroo, and 
immediately he will fall into the spirit of his part and act 
it out better than he possibly could in his normal state. 
The hypnotic trance or sleep, then, is first of all a state of 
intense and abnormal suggestibility, in which the mind 
disregards all but the operator's behests, because the will 
is banished almost completely, as is also the critical 
power of the mind. 

The deeper hypnotic states with all their events are 
afterwards forgotten by the subject. However, memory 
of them may sometimes be called up by insisting that 
they shall be remembered. Suggestion, in hypnosis, can 
affect the voluntary muscles; it can produce positive 
^nd negative hallucinations, and over-sensitiveness or 
exaltation of the senses (hypera^sthesia) . Physicians 
have used hypnotic suggestion instead of anaesthetics, as 
chloroform and ether, on patients, and amputated limbs, 
extracted teeth, performed dangerous operations, the 
patients experiencing no pain whatever. In certain sub- 
jects suggestion may cure rheumatism^ produce a con- 
gestion, a burn or a bhster, or bleeding of the nose. ''It 
is quite certain,'' writes Braid, ''that some patients can 
tell the shape of what is held an inch and a half from the 



SUGGESTION 239 

skin on the back of the neck, crown of the head, arm, or 
hand, or other parts of the body, the extremely exalted 
sensibility of the skin enabling them to discern the shape 
of the object so presented from its tendency to emit or 
absorb caloric. ... A patient could feel and obey the 
motion of a glass funnel passed through the air at a dis- 
tance of fifteen feet.^^ ^ 

Suggestion Defined. In the facts presented we have no 
difficulty in discovering an important principle — that of 
suggestion, which in its earher and most fundamental as- 
pect is simple sensibility and reaction to nervous stimula- 
tion, while in its developed and psychic aspect (suggestion 
proper) is the tendency of more or less definitely developed 
ideal states or physical symbols of such ideal states to call 
forth certain motor attitudes and modifications. 

Physiological Suggestion. Among the varieties of sug- 
gestion, physiological suggestion is the earliest to appear, 
being most closely related to nervous reaction. Baldwin 
found that a child of his not a month old began to be re- 
ceptive of suggestion, which was ^^ conveyed by repeated 
stimulation under uniform conditions.'' The infant was 
put to sleep, face downward, by patting her gently upon 
the back. ^^This position soon became itself not only 
suggestive to the child of sleep, but sometimes necessary 
to sleep, even when she was laid across the nurse's lap in 
what seemed to be an uncomfortable position." ^ Under 
physiological suggestion may be classed all customary 
reactions upon conditions of position, etc., that occur un- 
consciously, such as maintaining equilibrium in walking. 

1 Quoted from Sidis, Psychology of Suggestion, New York, 1898, 
p. 149. 

^Mental Development, New York, 1903, p. 110. 



240 THE MENTAL MAN 

Sensori-Motor Suggestion. Sensori-motor suggestion 
appears next. For example, a sound, as the mother's 
lullaby, or a sensation of light, or its absence, may serve 
as a suggestion of sleep to the child. This kind of sugges- 
tion differs from the physiological as a process in the 
presence of clear consciousness in the form of sensations. 

Ideo-Motor Suggestion. When the tendency to call 
forth an act is at the instance of a reproduced image, or a 
vivid idea, or ^'object with all its ^ meaning,^ ^' it may be 
called ideo-motor suggestion. This variety of suggestion 
is exemphfied in imitation. According to Preyer, imita- 
tion begins at about the third or fourth month of life, but 
Baldwin's observations place it at nine months. A child 
of mine, of whom I kept a record, when eight months old 
showed her first clear case of imitation by trying to say 
tick-tock (which she pronounced ^'ti'-to' ^'), and when 
nine, by dipping a piece of bread into some fruit-jelly 
upon a plate, just as I had done myself while giving her 
some to taste. 

Subconscious Suggestion. It is an interesting fact that, 
suggestion may be occasioned by subconscious states or 
impressions. Says Baldwin on tune-suggestion: ^'I have 
tested in detail, for dxample, the conditions of the rise of 
so-called internal tunes' — we speak of Hunes in our 
heads' or ^in our ears' — and find certain suggestive in- 
fluences which in most cases cause these tunes to rise and 
take their course. Often, when a tune springs up ^in my 
head,' the same tune has been lately sung or whistled in 
my hearing, though quite unconsciously to myself. Often 
the tunes are those heard in church the previous day or 
earlier. Such a tune I am entirely unable to recall volun- 
tarily: yet when it comes into my mind's ear, so to 



SUGGESTION 241 

speak, I readily recognize it as belonging to an earlier 
day^s experience. Other cases show various accidental 
suggestions, such as the tune 'Mozart' suggested by the 
composer's name, the tune 'Gentle Annie' suggested by 
the name Annie, etc. In all these cases it is only after the 
tune has taken possession of consciousness, and after 
much seeking, that the suggesting influence is discovered. 

''Closer analysis reveals the following facts. The 
'time' of such internal tunes is usually dictated by some 
rhythmical subconscious occurrence. After hearty meals 
it is always the time of the heart-beat, unless there be ' in 
the air' some more impressive stimulus; as, for example, 
when on ship-board, the beat is with me invariably that 
of the engine-throbs. When walking it is the rhythm of 
the foot-fall." ' 

Universality and Importance of Suggestion. We then 
see that suggestibility is an important factor in normal 
life, ever more or less determining its outward behavior, 
and controlling it almost entirely in hypnosis. Its signifi- 
cance is as great as it is general and fundamental to life. 
Suggestion, in the broad sense of the word, is an impor- 
tant factor in the individual's and race's progress. It is 
suggestibility that converts the stimulus and idea into an 
expression or act; and to the extent that stimuli and 
ideas are new, it tends to break up or modify old habits 
and instincts by the introduction of new movements; 
and to the extent that stimuli and ideas remain the 
same, suggestion is the conservator of customs, language, 
manners, and institutions. Suggestion as the tendency 
to express reflexively states of consciousness in bodily 
changes, especially in vocables, furnishes the basis of 

1 Op. cit., pp. 135-136. 
16 



242 THE MENTAL MAN 

language ; and as a tendency to mimic and imitate it en- 
larges and expedites the acquisition of the largest possi- 
ble number of symbols for ideas. In shorty through sug- 
gestion comes accommodation to physical^ social^ and 
spiritual environment. 

Mental Epidemics. Socially and historically the signifi- 
cance of suggestibility may be seen in certain epidemic- 
like movements and affections that have^ from time to 
time, stirred communities and even whole nations. The 
Crusades, which involved the great nations of Europe, 
started from the appeals of an insignificant hermit. The 
suggestion to possess the Holy Sepulcher found lodgment 
in a mental soil perfectly adapted, and soon the hosts of 
Christendom, including even children, launched out re- 
peatedly on those ill-fated expeditions. The story of 
witchcraft and its suppression furnishes another instance 
of a persistent and wide-spread suggestion that held the 
nations in mortal fear, and sent thousands of guiltless 
wretches to the stake. The dancing mania has arisen at 
different times and places and spread over considerable 
areas. By thousands, men, women, and children were 
drawn into the dancing vortex. In Italy they danced to 
the tune of Tarantella, which was believed to cure the 
dancer from the supposedly poisonous bite of the taran- 
tula, and so wide-spread became this mental epidemic 
that few were quite exempt from it. During the French 
Revolution the Carmagnole song drew the Parisian 
populace, men and women, into a wild dance that went 
whirling down the streets, and was conspicuous at the 
public executions. Quasi-religious epidemics, now very 
uncommon, furnish excellent illustrations of the varied 
possibilities of suggestion. The affected persons were 



SUGGESTION 243 

seized with quaking and trembling; or with ejaculations 
and rolling on the ground^ accompanied with either deep 
remorse or intense joy; or with a swaying motion and a 
shouting of more or less meaningless phrases. In the 
great revival in Ohio, in 1800 (at one of the meetings at 
Cane Ridge, it is estimated that 20,000 people were 
present), some were taken with 'Hhe jerks,'^ some with 
the ^^holy laugh, '^ others with barking around a tree in 
veritable dog-fashion — they were ^ freeing the devil,''' 
etc.^ During the Dark Ages (13th century) the Flagel- 
lants, seized by unexampled remorse, marched about in 
procession, almost entirely naked, scourging themselves 
with leather thongs that brought the blood. Lycan- 
thropy, starting from the perverse instinct of some one, 
which served as the suggestion, became epidemic at 
times, and men, under the spell, prowled about as wolves 
to a most disgusting extent. One of the recent mental 
epidemics of this nature is that among the Doukobors, a 
Russian sect settled in the Canadian Northwest. First 
they discarded the use of animals in their farm-work, 
hitching themselves to the plow, etc. Then they left 
their homes en masse and wandered about naked or half- 
clad in quest of the Saviour. Neither reasoning nor en- 
treaty could turn them back, as hunger, cold, and other 
hardships had not done. Nothing but force on the part 
of the Canadian authorities finally brought the fanatics 
back to their homes. 

1 V. McMaster's History of the People of the United States, vol. II, 
pp. 578-582. 



CHAPTER XIX 
THE SELF 

Consciousness of Self. In all our consciousness there 
is ever present the feeling of self, or /. It is / that is 
thinking, feeling, or acting. It is / that is conscious. 
Whatever be the form or intensity of the consciousness, 
it is felt to be the self thus modified. This conscious- 
ness of self may exist in varying degrees, ranging be- 
tween the state of almost complete unconsciousness of 
self to that of morbid self-consciousness. But even in 
the completest unconsciousness of self that we are cap- 
able of experiencing, the feeling of / is not absolutely 
wanting. This feeling of self in all our conscious states 
may be called indirect, or essential self-consciousness, as 
distinguished from the pronounced and more or less mor- 
bid self-consciousness. 

Development of Consciousness of Self. The conscious- 
ness of self, though essential to consciousness uberhaupt^ 
is, nevertheless, subject to development. Probably the 
consciousness in infancy and early childhood is, so to 
speak, indefinite or general; but gradually it becomes 
definite and specific. There arises the broad distinction 
of the self and the not self. The self, at first, is felt to be 
the body with its conscious element. However, with 
time and development of the mental powers, the mental 
more and more gains prominence as an object of con- 
sciousness, until the person may feel as did Epictetus 

244 



THE SELF . 245 

the Stoic: ^^But nothing to me is the body, and nothing 
to me the parts of it/' That is the final view regarding 
the self, viz., it is not physical but mental. 

Interests of Self. To be sure, we can never be en- 
tirely freed from the idea that the body somehow shares 
in the self; but evidently this persistent idea springs 
from the relation existing between mind and body and 
the consequent interest in the body. Similarly the self 
has an interest in material possessions, in friends, church, 
club, country. Acts directed towards or by these are 
felt as personal, so that with what seems more than 
rhetorical right does James treat of the material and 
social selves, besides the spiritual. We suffer no in- 
dignities to be heaped upon our bodies. Our looks con- 
cern us much. We feel that somehow the clothes, the 
house, the possessions are a part of the man. We live 
as members of our circle of friends or organization, and 
often would rather risk life than stand by and suffer that 
social, religious, or political body of which we are mem- 
bers to endure shame and abuse. However, this cannot 
be taken as indicating real distinctions of the self, but 
rather the personal interests and lines of conduct. It is 
true, man's interests and activities go out for the attain- 
ment of material, social, and spiritual ends, yet the self 
of the man is that inner reality which says, / control and 
do J I think, I feel. 

The Feeling of Identity. The self, conscious of itself 
in time, is felt as identical with the self of past moments. 
I am the identical I that was yesterday and years ago. 
Though I may have changed, improved or deteriorated, 
been moved by different purposes, and been possessed 
of other feelings, I am, notwithstanding, the same person 



246 THE MENTAL MAN 

and not another. There is no uncertainty about this. 
The conviction is complete. The thread that runs in 
the fabric may here have this color and there another, 
now it may be woven so, and now some other way, but 
the thread is the identical one. Thus identity in self is 
each moment spontaneously perceived running back 
into the past along memory^ s thread. This is the nor- 
mal experience. The self is the central, dominating, 
thinking factor, and it is identical with self as far back 
as memory reaches. 

Theories of Self. These are the data respecting the 
self as found in consciousness by introspection. How are 
they explained? Scholasticism said the self is the soul, 
which is a simple unity, an indestructible, immaterial 
substance. To what extent this view disagrees with 
facts is yet to be seen. Another view is that of the As- 
sociationists, who reject the hypothesis of a simple soul- 
substance and substitute therefor the theory that self 
is ^^ nothing but a bundle or collection of different per- 
ceptions, which succeed each other with an inconceiv- 
able rapidity, and are in a perpetual flux and move- 
ment, ^^ as Hume put the matter.^ In other words, mind 
is nothing but many perceptions following each other so 
closely that somehow by virtue of the ^^inconceivable 
rapidity'^ and their instability they form an organic 
unity. The objection to this theory is given by Hume 
himself in an appendix to his Treatise. ''But all my 
hopes vanish, when I come to explain the principles that 
unite our successive perceptions in our thought or con- 
sciousness. I cannot discover any theory, which gives 
me satisfaction on this head.^^ Successive perceptions, 

1 A Treatise of Human Nature, Pt. IV, § VI. 



THE SELF 247 

no matter how rapidly they succeed each other, would 
still be successive and not a unity, such as is the self. 
No matter how many separate hemp fibers may be 
thrown on the floor, and how inconceivably rapidly 
they may follow each other, they would not form a hemp 
rope or a garment, unless there were something to unite 
and shape them into a rope or garment. Ribot, a French 
writer of much force, whose fundamental postulate is 
that all consciousness is but an attending phenomenon 
of physical states and processes, holds that the ego and 
its unity — which is only relative unity — is coordination 
of the physical organism, including the brain, and the 
cohesion of the attending states of consciousness. James 
has endeavored to overcome the objections to the as- 
sumption of cohesion in consciousness by making each 
moment or segment of the stream of consciousness con- 
tain, as it were, by inheritance all that has gone before, 
and self-perpetuating. 

Extensive Observation and Comparison Necessary. It 
is evident to the modern student of psychology that 
the problem of self cannot be settled by logic or the facts 
of introspection alone, but that if an answer is ever to 
come, it will be the result of extensive observations and 
comparisons of data that concern the body of mental 
science. In the meantime, psychology must content it- 
self with pointing out the conditions and the various 
effects upon the self. 

The Self Changes. The consciousness of self is not 
always the same, but varies considerably, both as to 
kind and degree, though even this statement does not 
apply to different individuals to the same extent. Mood- 
iness and changeableness are attributes applying to most 



248 THE MENTAL MAN 

persons. Of few can we say that they are always 'Hhe 
same/' and that only comparatively. It is true of all 
that at times we feel worthier, stronger mentally and 
physically, wiser, wittier, excelling more than at otheT 
times, when we feel lacking, incapable, discouraged, un- 
worthy. There are daily fluctuations occurring in the 
normal organism marked by variations of bodily and 
mental functioning. In the forenoon, when the nerve- 
cells are most highly charged with energy, all functions 
of body and mind are performed most spontaneously, 
and there is a feeling of strength and ease, buoyancy and 
self-sufficiency that subsides later in the day more and 
more, until the early hours of the next morning are 
reached, when all activities are at a minimum. It is 
between three and four o'clock in the morning that the 
greatest daily depression is experienced, if awake at that 
time. 

Coenesthesis and Memory. The consciousness of self 
at any moment is the resultant of all one's sensations of 
physical condition and energy, called ccenesthesiSj and 
all the memories, both explicit and implicit, of one's 
past life, achievements and experiences, social standing, 
mental power, and possessions. This consciousness of 
self may or may not give us the right estimate of our- 
selves. In youth the estimate of self is generally higher 
than actual accomplishments warrant, and in old age or 
sickness it is too low. Conceit as well as excessive hu- 
mility show lack of balance. Still more marked is this 
in the melancholic patient, who is afflicted with a more 
or less persistent depression of spirits, especially in the 
early hours of the morning. In his depression he feels 
unworthy, dissatisfied, and diffident of his powers; or 



THE SELF 249 

if the depression is greater, the sense of misery is un- 
speakably intense. 

Mercier has given us a graphic picture of the melan- 
chohc. ^^In such [severe] cases, the patient has a most 
miserable expression of face, his head droops on his 
breast, his arms hang hstless by his sides, his forehead is 
puckered into innumerable wrinkles, his eyes are sunk, 
he weeps either constantly or frequently, his mouth is 
a picture of woe, and his whole attitude and expression 
are suggestive of misery and despair. Question him, and 
he does not answer; urge your question, and he groans 
and wrings his hands; still urge him, and he cries, and 
says in a feeble monotone that he is the most miserable 
and most wicked of men — that he is accursed of God and 
man — that he has committed the unpardonable sin, the 
sin against the Holy Ghost — ^that his wickedness is un- 
speakable — that he is unfit to live.'' ^ 

The opposite, in unusual or abnormal exhilaration 
through the use of stimulants or narcotics, or other 
causes, such as mania, results, for the time being, in 
self-aggrandizement, the feeling of physical and men- 
tal power, varying in degree all the way from excellent 
spirits or conceit to megalomania. In mania and gen- 
eral paralysis there is an increase of all the bodily proc- 
esses — secretion, digestion, assimilation, and nutrition 
— due to an exaltation of the nervous system. The body 
is well nourished and the muscles firm and vigorous, 
in spite of the fact that because of some defect in the 
brain, he may have lost so much of his power of m_otor 
control as not to be able to stand unsupported nor to 
direct his hand without blundering. Notwithstanding 

1 Sanity and Insanity, p. 338. 



250 THE MENTAL MAN 

that the general paralytic may be in unattractive sur- 
roundings, and may be incapable of sitting up and feed- 
ing himself, he feels great and boasts of his exalted po- 
sition in the universe, and of his great size, and bodily 
power, and wealth, health, and accomplishments. One 
poor fellow, I recall, who had been a cobbler, claimed 
to be '^Prussian King of France''; another stammered 
that he had made the world — out of air. In any case, 
whether it be depression or exaltation, the feelings are 
not commensurate with the facts. 

Changed Feeling of Self. Yet more radical changes may 
occur to affect the very sense of personal identity. In 
milder forms the person feels strange to himself, or feels 
that certain parts, such as the teeth, stomach, or brain, 
are gone ; or that he is made of stone, glass, or butter. A 
woman described by Esquirol believed that the devil had 
carried off her body. A soldier, as related by Foville, 
thought that he had been dead since the battle of Auster- 
titz. '^He is dead,'' said he of himself, ''he was carried 
off by a cannon-ball. What you see here is not he, but a 
poor machine that they have made in imitation of him." ^ 
Sometimes a person feels himself double. For example, 
a convalescent mentioned by Leuret, believed that he 
was two individuals, one of whom was in bed, while the 
other walked about. In spite of the fact that he had no 
appetite, he ate much, as he thought he had two bodies 

to feed.^ Mrs. H , a lady, whose case came under 

my observation, among other things, gave me this written 

account of her peculiar experiences: ''I went to M 

in April [1898] — I do not remember the exact date. I 

1 Quoted from Ribot, Diseases of Personality, 
2Ribot, op. cit. 



THE SELF 251 

immediately became hypnotized by some unknown, un- 
seen power. I could perceive the moral condition of the 
town, the church, the schools, and the individuals, and it 
was so bad that I felt it as a burden and wanted to exert 
myself to do something to better the conditions. I felt in 
a great measure that I was responsible for much of the 
bad condition. ... I was sweeping the floor when I 
felt impressed to write a message purporting to be dic- 
tated by Martha H [Mr. H 's first wife]. It 

was an appeal for physical help to aid me in my house- 
work. It seemed to me as if the controlling power or in- 
fluence wanted my strength for their work, and did not 
want me to do the house-work. I felt compelled to carry 
the letter I had written to my sister-in-law. ... I de- 
livered it without going into the house, and immediately 
returned to my own home, knelt down beside my bed and 
prayed. It seemed to be a supreme moment of my life, 
and I felt very anxious not to forget any one for whom I 
ought to pray. I shook and trembled with an exceeding 
great joy. Then this message came to me: 'Ring, ring 

the bells of Heaven! Elsie S ^s [Mrs. H ^s 

maiden name] soul is redeemed!^ Then suddenly a 
rustling — a presence knelt beside me and this message to 
my mind: 'I give you a new name, Frances Willard.' 
Then all was calm and peaceful. ^^ Believing that Frances 

Willard was reincarnated in her, Mrs. H writes: 

*' I insisted on having Mr. H and myself married 

again, the minister using the name of Frances. I was suc- 
cessful in getting the ceremony performed to my satis- 
faction, but I expect [suspect] I was a great trial to the 

Rev. Mr. V . I cannot give my full experience — 

it is too bulky. I had a feeling that I had resigned my 



252 THE MENTAL MAN 

body, giving it away, and that for the time being it was 
Frances Willard. The one body alternately belonged to 

Miss Willard, Martha H , and myself, and my 

language and talk was according to which of the three I 
was representing. I was well and natural in each case, 

and when I was Elsie H , was the same as I am 

now. Among many other things, Love, Matrimony, 
Virtue and Vice, were the subjects of lengthy dis- 
courses. ... I believe my experience, during my so- 
called sickness (?) was given me to preserve my sanity, 
and Frances Willard was the instrument God used, at the 
same time it was an opportunity for Miss Willard to mani- 
fest Reincarnation, and she strengthened my moral cour- 
age to reveal her presence. ^^ Several months after receiv- 
ing the manuscript from which the above is taken, I 

learned from the newspapers that Mrs. H had 

gone to the W. C. T. U. headquarters in Chicago, insisting 
that she was Frances Willard. 

Alternating Personality. Still another condition affect- 
ing the self is one that is known as alternating personality, 
or double consciousness. The facts are somewhat like 
this : A person grows up and is conscious of himself as a 
distinct personality, and is also known by others to have 
such and such traits and characteristics. Through sick- 
ness or unheralded inner catastrophe, or external acci- 
dent, the past is blotted out completely and the person 
begins practically a new life. He does not know himself 
as he •was and much less his friends and relatives. He 
looks upon all things and persons as strange. As almost 
an infant he begins to learn speech over and famiharize 
himself with his surroundings. His progress is faster 
than it was the first time, but his development in regard 



THE SELF 253 

to character is distinct. The body, the brain, is the same, 
but the person, the character is apparently another. 
Mentally and morally he is another person in his second 
state. Then there may again occur a change, and the 
person resume mental life just where he had left it, when 
the first change came, and he be oblivious of all those 
months and years of his second state. Thus there may 
be an alternating from the first to a second state, and 
from the second to the first, without there being any 
memory of the one state when being in the other. 

Example of Alternating Personality. The case of a 
young woman, as an example of this alternating from one 
state to another, lasting for four years, will suffice. ^^ Her 
memory was capacious and well stored with a copious 
stock of ideas. Unexpectedly, and without any fore- 
warning, she fell into a profound sleep, which continued 
several hours beyond the ordinary term. On waking, she 
was discovered to have lost every trace of acquired 
knowledge. Her memory was tabula rasa — all vestiges, 
both of words and things, were obliterated and gone. It 
was found necessary for her to learn everything again. 
She even acquired, by new efforts, the art of spelling, 
reading, writing, and calculating, and gradually became 
acquainted with the persons and objects around, like a 
being for the first time brought into the world. In these 
exercises she made considerable proficiency. But, after 
a few months, another fit of somnolency invaded her. 
On rousing from it, she found herself restored to the 
state she was in before the first paroxysm, but was 
wholly ignorant of every event and occurrence that had 
befallen her afterward. The former condition of her ex- 
istence she now calls the old state, and the latter the new 



254 THE MENTAL MAN 

state ; and she is as unconscious of her double character 
as two distinct persons are of their respective natures. 
For example, in her old state she possesses all the original 
knowledge, in her new state only what she acquired 
since. ... In the old state she possesses fine powers of 
penmanship, while in the new she writes a poor, awkward 
hand, having not had time or means to become an ex- 
pert.^^ 1 

Causes of Change of Self. The changes of self or of the 
feeling of self, are directly traceable to extensive bodily 
changes in a person, especially in the somsesthetic area,^ 
or the anterior association center in the frontal lobes of 
the brain. Disturbances of self-consciousness are often 
the result of tactile anaesthesia. But just what takes 
place in alternating personality is hard to understand, 
unless we think of it as a break in memory, or a shifting 
from one associated memory-group to another, without 
there being any link between the two. 

Alternating Personality an Exaggerated Form of Normal 
Consciousness. It is maintained, however, that there is 
nothing so unusual in these phenomena of multiple and 
alternating personality; for even in the most normal con- 
ditions do we find indications of this. As Professor Ladd 
says, ''every case of 'double' or 'triple' consciousness is 
only a relative exaggeration of processes that customarily 
underlie the recognized forms of every so-called single 
consciousness.'' ^ Exactly. Several facts indicate this. 
The one is that in every one there are extensive uncon- 

1 Macnish, Philosophy of Sleep, quoted from Ribot, Diseases of 
Memory. 

2 V. p. 44. 

3 Philosophy of Mind, New York, 1895, p, 168, 



THE SELF 255 

scious quasi-^mental processes going on, as shown in a 
former chapter, called by Ladd, the psychic automaton. 
This automaton vaguely accompanies the conscious self. 
But under circumstances the automaton, instead of run- 
ning parallel with the self-conscious ego, assumes more or 
less exclusive control, and the work done, at times, far 
exceeds that of the conscious self. The work then is felt 
to be done by another, by a god, by inspiration, etc., as 
pointed out on p. 60. Or if the deeds of the automaton 
are regarded as unworthy of the real self, then the author 
may be thought to be a devil, or even a legion of devils. 

The second fact to indicate that multiple consciousness 
is but an exaggerated form of normal processes, is what 
Ladd aptly styles the dramatic sundering of the ego. That 
is, we are able to put ourselves in the place of another, 
and think and act and feel as he does to a certain extent. 
The imagination builds a person not self. That is what 
the child does in playing that it is some one else. That is 
the mental attitude of the player of a role on the stage, 
and it is the spontaneous process of the dreamer in sleep. 
The characters that come in dream and talk to us, and, at 
times, outdo us in logic and brilliancy of speech, are felt to 
be others than self, and yet they are the creations of self. 

The third consideration favoring the view that multiple 
consciousness is not foreign to normal automatism, is the 
fact that with a little practice nearly all, if not all, the 
phenomena observable in multiple consciousness can be 
made to appear in normal persons. This was accom- 
plished in the experiments conducted in the Harvard 
laboratory.^ 

1 Leon M. Solomons and Gertrude Stein, Normal Motor Automa- 
tism, Psychological Review, III, p. 492 ff . 



256 THE MENTAL MAN 

These facts are of supreme importance in a practical 
way, but it is for applied psychology to consider fully 
how reformation and betterment of life may be brought 
about by reaching the subconscious and assuming the 
role of a noble character. 



CHAPTER XX 

MENTAL TYPES AND CHARACTERS 

Varieties of Mind, and Change — Tendency toward a 
Type. As a comparatively few little bits of differently 
colored glass in the kaleidoscope are capable of produc- 
ing an infinite variety of beautiful effects, so a few men- 
tal elements in man combined, as it were, in different 
proportions and amounts, make it possible to look upon 
an endless number of mental variations. What we are 
we are, and yet sex, age, health, climate, and social — 
including moral and intellectual — environment are con- 
tinually modifying factors of the initial endowments and 
tendencies of mind. What we were ten years ago we 
are not today, and what we are today we shall not be 
ten years hence. The individual is continually subject 
to change, yet individuals, or society as a whole, tends 
constantly toward a type. The factors of civiHzation 
are working toward a standard, or an ideal. This means 
conformity to the customs, manners, thought, and 
morals of society, and consequently a rubbing off of 
our corners of idiosyncrasy and individual pecuharities, 
a strengthening of self-control, and development of taste. 
We do not care to be odd and ''foreigners'' in the eyes 
of the men among whom we live. Whether we in Rome 
should do as the Romans do, may be a question, but it 
is only a question of time when we shall be Romans, 
whether rightly so or not; and yet in spite of the tend- 
17 257 



258 THE MENTAL MAN 

encies toward one character, all cannot or will not at- 
tain to it. There is heterogeneity in society, and always 
will be under the operations of the laws of nature. 

Classification of Minds. A classification of the various 
kinds of mind is a difficult matter, if it is to satisfy 
science; and still more so if it is, in addition, to serve 
the practical ends of description and identification in 
the ordinary walks of life. In fact the task is impossible. 
The more marked differences in mental character are 
due to several facts, which we may comprehend under 
(1) Nervous Reaction, (2) Development, and (3) Health 
and Equilibrium. 

1. Nervous Reactions: Temperament. It is usual with 
modern psychologists to classify temperaments on the 
basis of the nervous system, its reaction or suscepti- 
bility to external and internal stimuli, and its tenden- 
cies to combine the reactions in various ways.^ Wundt, 
by conceiving reactions as strong or weak, and quick or 
slow, obtains the following classification : 

Strong Weak 

Quick Choleric Sanguine 

Slow Melancholic Phlegmatic 

The person of a choleric temperament is quick to be inv- 
pressed and is aroused to feel deeply. He is quick of wit, 
alert, impulsive, and emotional, hence likely to lack in 
inhibitory power. The will becomes thoroughly aroused 
and holds to its purpose until other impressions turn it 
in other directions. The melancholic person also has 
strong impressions, intense emotions, but they come 
slowly. He is tardy of action, meditative, and senti- 

1 Cf. Ladd, Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, New York, 
1894, p. 650, 



MENTAL TYPES AND CHARACTERS 259 

mental. Probably the poets belong to this class. San- 
guine is the temperament of youth. The sanguine per- 
son is quickly aroused to action and emotion^ but the 
impressions are shallow and soon give way to other ex- 
periences. The phlegmatic temperament is unemotional 
and sluggish in thought and action. In regard to will, 
the phlegmatic person resolves but slowly^ but when 
once resolved he tenaciously clings to his purposeo He 
is thorough and conservative. 

This classification of temperaments, it is to be under- 
stood, is somewhat ideal; for a person may not be 
described under any one of these four divisions. For 
example, it is said that among the Enghsh people the 
predominating type is a mixture of the phlegmatic and 
choleric. The four types of the scheme are the ex- 
tremes, and each one may shade into any other. All 
that may be said, then, of a temperament which is not 
decidedly one or the other, is that it approximates this 
or that, or is halfway between two, or even has no par- 
ticular temperament. 

2. Development — Idiots and Cretins. As nervous de- 
velopment is not the same in all individuals, there are 
various mental types, especially as regards capacity. 
While the majority have a normal brain-development, 
there is a class, comprising a small per cent of the race — 
the idiots ^ and cretins — whose encephalic development 
is considerably retarded or abnormal. Small-headed, 
weak-minded, sometimes manifesting remarkable acu- 
men in certain special directions, the idiot always pre- 
sents a pitiable caricature of man. The cretins, found 

1 It is estimated that in England and Wales there is one idiot to 
every 400 people. 



260 THE MENTAL MAN 

in all parts of the worlds but particularly in the deep 
and dark valleys of mountains of Europe^ are more 
brutish than human. They are small of stature, with 
irregularly shaped heads either very small or unusually 
large and showing other repulsive physical peculiarities, 
produced by a faulty, defective development and for- 
mation of brain and cranium, as shown by the report of 
the Sardinian commission and the researches of Pro- 
fessor Virchow. They are characterized by a mental 
and physical torpor and even complete mental imbe- 
cility. 

Criminal Type. The criminal presents another case 
of arrested development. He is not a simple, accidental 
offender, but one who does not recognize any duties on 
his part, nor the rights of others; in fact, he seems to 
be utterly lacking the moral sense. His general sensi- 
bility is low — in particular he is insensible to pain — and 
therefore pitiless and cruel. He is lazy, remorseless, 
extremely vain, and fond of stimulants, gambling, and 
debauch. He is indifferent to religion, and dishkes al- 
truism. He is cunning, although of inferior intelligence. 
His physiognomic characteristics are as pronounced as 
his mental. 

Geniuses — Originality. On the other hand, there is 
a class of persons whose brain development is consid- 
erably above the average. The world's geniuses gener- 
ally belong to this class — the men who have been able 
to conceive and do in a purely original manner. 

The average man follows well beaten paths, both in 
thought and deed; the man of talent, through training 
excels in those common activities; while the genius, by 
a more highly developed nerve-organism, with which 



MENTAL TYPES AND CHARACTERS 2G1 

nature has endowed him, is enabled to enter upon 
hitherto untried and undiscovered ways, where he ac- 
comphshes his work wholly in his own manner. ^^ Hardly 
any of us/' says Professor James, '^can make new heads 
easily when fresh experiences come. Most of us grow 
more and more enslaved to the stock conceptions with 
which we have once become familiar, and less and less 
capable of assimilating impressions in any but the old 
ways. Old-fogyism, in short, is the inevitable terminus 
to which life sweeps us on. . . . Genius, in truth, means 
little more than the faculty of perceiving in an unhabitual 
way.'' ^ Thus also Nordau writes: ^^A bee that would 
build an octagonal or square honey-cell, instead of a 
hexagonal; a swallow that would find a new form for 
its nest; an ox that would rather allow himself to be 
killed than be yoked, would be a genius. But such the 
world has not yet experienced, while indeed it has seen 
men that have been able to accomplish equal deviations 
from inherited activities." ^ 

Cranial Capacity. Of the several ways in which 
geniuses generally distinguish themselves, exceptionally 
large cranial capacity is one. Although there have been 
men of rare ability, such as Liebig, Guido Reni, Dante, 
and Shelley, the brain of each one of whom was smaller 
than the average, yet in most geniuses it is above the 
average. The brain of a normally developed male weighs 
from 1304 to 1502 grams, of a female from 1162 to 1332 
grams, while in men of genius it weighs as high as 1842.7 
grams. 

Precocity. Many men of genius have distinguished 
themselves for their precocity. Thus Mozart's musical 

lOp. cit., II, p. 110. ^Paradoxe, 



262 THE MENTAL MAN 

talent was revealed at three years of age^ while at six 
he composed pieces with expertness. Dante^ at nine, 
wrote a sonnet to Beatrice. Goethe wrote German, 
French, Italian, Latin, and Greek before he was eight. 
Byron wrote verses at twelve, and when eighteen years 
old, published his Hours of Idleness. Raphael found 
himself famous at fourteen. Bacon conceived his 
Novum Organum at fifteen. Hallam was the author 
of a sonnet before he was ten. Lessing, Grotius, Nie- 
buhr, and Fenelon were prodigies in boyhood. To be 
sure, there are notable exceptions to precocity in men 
of high ability. Rousseau ran away from school at six- 
teen years of age, where he was looked upon as a dunce. 
Boileau was thought to be a confirmed dunce up to his 
thirtieth year. Goldsmith was and remained dull until 
his early manhood years. He produced nothing of worth 
in a literary way until after his thirty-second year. 

Symptoms of Degeneracy. High brain development, 
precocity, originality, and capacity are not the only 
characteristics of geniuses. There is much in them at 
times resembling the characteristics and symptoms of the 
insane, and some writers, such as Nisbet ^ and Lom- 
broso ^ would class them with the abnormal. It appears 
that the fundamental cause in both genius and many 
forms of insanity is the excessive psychical or nervous 
energy. The Hst of the world's geniuses reveals very 
many instances of hallucination, epilepsy, extreme van- 
ity, lack of common sense, melancholy, and even in- 
sanity. Peter the Great was afflicted with convulsive 
movements, which distorted his face. Socrates ^ften 

1 The Insanity of Genius, London, 1891. 

2 The Man of Genius, London, 189L 



MENTAL TYPES AND CHARACTERS 2G3 

danced and jumped in the street without any reason. 
Mozart, Schiller, and Alfieri had convulsions. Paganini 
was subject to catalepsy. Pascal had fits lasting for 
whole days. Handel had attacks of furious and epileptic 
rage. Goethe's mood, according to his own confession, 
passed from extreme joy to extreme melancholy The 
older brother of Richelieu committed suicide because of 
a rebuke from his parents, and his sister was insane. 
Richelieu himself, in an insane fit, believed he was a 
horse, and neighed and jumped, but afterwards had no 
recollections of it. Cavour twice attempted suicide. 
Charles Lamb, Robert Schumann, Cowper, and Swift be- 
came insane. Lombroso says that ^^the most complete 
type of madness in genius is presented to us by Schopen- 
hauer,'' who was always misanthropic, pessimistic, and 
wretched. And so on.^ 

3. Mental Health and Equipoise. Health and equilib- 
rium of mental activity constitute sanity. If the exci- 
tations are not caused by a diseased condition of the 
nerve-substance, nor are disproportionate to the stimu- 
lant; if the sensations and ideas are properly coordinated 
and inhibited; and if the emotions are normal accompani- 
ments of perceptions, then the mind is acting sanely. 

Sanity. As no mind, under given conditions, always 
functions and reacts absolutely the same, it is evident 
that there is no such thing as an absolutely sane mind. 
Therefore, theoretically speaking, every person is, at 
times and under circumstances, insane; but in the com- 
mon acceptation of the word, the test of sanity must be a 
practical one. That person is sane who estimates his 
nature, powers, and surroundings suflficiently correctly 

lOp. cit., p. 91. 



264 THE MENTAL MAN 

for taking and maintaining his place in the world as a 
physical and social being. 

Insanity. In the insane person there are various dis- 
turbances that unfit him for the practical duties and 
functions of life. He has various illusions, delusions, and 
hallucinations that he cannot rid himself of, and that 
finally he cannot distinguish from reality. Therefore he 
perforce acts in a world that is both real and unreal. 
Besides, there are often morbid propensities and im- 
perative conceptions that the patient cannot resist, 
which lead him to perform the strangest and often most 
revolting acts. The emotional disturbances are various 
and more or less intense. Sadness, joy, rage, love, hatred, 
etc., capriciously afflict the patient. The power to re- 
member suffers more or less loss, and sometimes the 
thread of consciousness is severed entirely. Loss of in- 
hibition, too, usually occurs in insanity, which leaves the 
patient the plaything of his morbid emotions, ideas, and 
impulses; or the will may be so obstructed as to render 
the patient incapable of voluntary acts. 

Insanity and Reason. The common notion that insan- 
ity invariably means a loss of reason is not correct, as 
often the acutest reasoning is found in the insane. When, 
however, the malady is severe or the affection general, 
the disturbance of mental powers includes also the reason. 
Zacchias relates that a visitor was shown about an insane 
hospital by a very intelligent cicerone, who so impressed 
the visitor by the explanations he gave of the patients, 
and by his skill in drawing out their delusions, etc., that 
the visitor supposed him to be one of the authorities of 
the institution, until they came to a certain cell. ''Here 
is a sad case,^^ said the cicerone, pointing out a patient. 



MENTAL TYPES AND CHARACTERS 265 

'Hhe worst one in the asylum. This poor fellow thinks he 
is the Redeemer of mankind — the fool^ when it is I who 
am the true Redeemer/' ^ 

Forms of Insanity. Some of the commonest forms of 
insanity, according to the most recent classification,^ are 
manic-depressive insanity, paranoia, paresis, dementia 
precox, involution melancholia, and senile psychoses. 
Manic-depressive insanity is a disease caused principally 
by hereditary taint, and is characterized by successive 
periods of exaltation, or mania, and depression, or melan- 
cholia. During the manic stage of the disease, there is a 
general loosening of the checks both of the physical and 
mental life. There are flights of ideas and motor and 
emotional excitement. The patient, in this stage, ap- 
pears impatient, hopeful, witty, and cheerful. His self- 
esteem is increased. The melancholic period is char- 
acterized by a difficulty of thinking and a depression 
of movement and emotion. The patient feels unhappy 
and unworthy. Paranoia, sometimes called monomania, 
manifests itself only in particular directions. The mono- 
maniac is ''insane on one subject,'' while on every other 
point he may appear perfectly rational. Yet paranoia 
is quite persistent, in fact is a chronic form of insan- 
ity, either acquired or traceable to an inherited neuro- 
degenerative taint. General paresis, commonly desig- 
nated softening of the brain, is an organic disease of the 
brain, resulting in a general breaking down of the brain- 
structure. Involution melancholia is a disease coming at 
about the age of forty or fifty years, and is characterized 
by great depression and apprehension. There is a sense 

1 Spitzka, Manual of Insanity, New York, 1895. 

2 Cf. Wm. A. White's Outlines of Psychiatry, New York, 1907. 



266 THE MENTAL MAN 

of impending danger or of sinfulness. Senile psychoses 
occur in old age, marked by decline of mental and physi- 
cal powers, often to a pathological extent. Dementia 
precox, or insanity of pubescence, occurs during or imme- 
diately following the period of puberty, i. e., between the 
twelfth and twenty-fifth years, and is characterized at 
first by a slight depression not as intense as that in 
melancholia, and then by mental enfeeblement accom- 
panied by a disposition to be silly. 

During adolescence the individual undergoes important 
physical changes, which, in some ways, profoundly affect 
his mental life. To quote from President G. Stanley 
HalFs brilliant and exhaustive work on adolescence: 
^^ Youth seeks to be, know, get, feel all that is highest, 
greatest, and best in man's estate, circumnutating in 
widening sweeps before it finds the right object upon 
which to chmb. There are interpreted anticipations of 
greater joy which only true marriage and parenthood of 
body and soul can satisfy, foregleams of heroic achieve- 
ment and secret ^excelsior' ambitions. It is the glorious 
dawn of imagination, which supplements individual 
limitations and expands the soul toward the dimensions 
of the race.'' ^ The boy's light-heartedness and careless- 
ness with his lack of judgment and self-appreciation com- 
bine with the man's aspirations and feelings that arise at 
this period of transition, and the result, in most young 
men, is what Spitzka calls a ''silly ambition, a mawkish 
sentimentality, and an obtrusive self-assertion." ^ In 
rare cases this state is not corrected by the social and ed- 
ucational influences. 

1 Adolescence, New York, 1905, II, p. 302. 

2 Op. cit. 



INDEX 



Aboulia, 89. 

Acquisitiveness, 110. 

Act, Analysis of, 78; the expres- 
sion of actor's nature, 79. 

Adolescence, 266. 

iEnesidemus, 170. 

Alternating Consciousness, 202 ^ 
252. 

Amnesia, 202. 

Anaxagoras, 151. 

Angell, J. R., 75. 

Anomalies, 17, 104. 

Anticipation, 162. 

Aphasia, 45. 

Aphemia, 45. 

Areas, Cortical, 42 ff.. Fig. 6. 

Aristotle, 191, 217. 

Association, 94, 127, 140, 151, 
158, 160; Centers, 44; Laws of, 
190, 192; Neurones, 28. 

Associationists, 246. 

Atavism, 114. 

Atomism, 151. 

Attention, 72, 154, 156, 160. 

Auditory Sense-area, 44. 

Augustine, St., 191. 

Automatism, 65, 76, 254. 

Axis-cylinder Processes, 24. 

Bacon, Francis, 217. 

Baldwin, J. Mark, 235, 239, 240. 

Barker, L.F., 27, 46, 150. 

Barnes, Professor, 208. 

Belief, 227. 

Bennett, Dr. J. H., 90. 



Berkeley, Bishop, 168. 

Berti,100. 

Binet, Alfred, 50, 63, 64, 184. 

Boswell, James, 197. 

Bowne, B. P., 17, 184. 

Braid, Dr. James, 238. 

Brain, 39, ff.; Convolutions, 33; 

Weight of, 47. 
Bunge, G., 48. 

Calkins, Prof. Mary W., 193. 

Cameron, Alexander, 209. 

Cartesians, 69. 

Cattell, J. McK., 156. 

Cause and Effect, Idea of, 230. 

Cell, The, 23; Varieties of the, 

23. 
Cerebellum, 40. 

Cerebral Hemisphere, Fig. 5, 41. 
Cerebro-spinal System, 34. 
Cerebrum, 40. 
Character, Habit of Willing, 97; 

Dual, 61. 
Charcot, Dr., 210. 
Coenesthesis, 248. 
Coleridge, S. T., 200. 
Color Sensations, 139; Blind, 

139. 
Comparative Method, 19. 
Complementary Colors, 139, 

Fig. 9, 141. 
Concept, The, 213. 
Conception, 211 ff., 224; as 

Habit, 94; and Imagination, 

213. 



267 



268 



THE MENTAL MAN 



Condillac, 58. 

Conn, H. W., 107. 

Consciousness, 24,50 ff.; an Ul- 
timate Reality, 21; Meaning 
of, 22; Alternating, 202; of 
Meaning, 211 ff.; Narrowing 
of, 237. 

Consent, 77. 

Contractibility of Cell, 233. 

Cord, The Spinal, 39. 

Cretins, 259. 

Criminal, The, 260. 

Critical Power, Suspension of, 
236. 

Darwin, Charles, 102, 103, 122. 

Deception, 110. 

Deduction, 217; Importance of, 

219; Relation, to Induction, 

220. 
Degeneracy, Symptoms of, 262. 
Democritus, 149, 151. 
Dendrites, 24. 
Dessior, Max, 178. 
Determinism, 82. ' 
Development, Mental, 259. 
Dewey, Professor John, 118, 121, 

142. 
Discharge Theory of Feelings, 

120-123. 
Discrimination, 151 ff., 183, 212; 

Analytic, 154. 
Distance, of Sounds, 167; of Ob- 
jects Seen, 168. 
Doubting, 88. 
Dramatic Sundering of the Ego, 

255. 
Dreaming, 54. 

Ear, The, 34. 
Eckhart, Master, 221. 



Emotions, 118 ff. 
Emotional Attitudes, 57, 120 ff. 
Encephalon, Weight of, 47. 
Epictetus, 244. 
Epicurus, 84. 
Epidemics, Mental, 242. 
Equilibrium, Sensation of, 139. 
Equipoise, Mental, 263. 
Esquirol, Jean E. D., 250. 
Ethical Instinct, 111. 
Ethics, 87. 
Evolution, 101. 
Experimental Method, 20. 
Extension in Perception, 159. 
Externality, 148, 159. 
Eye, The, 36, Fig. 3. 

Fechner, Gustav Th., 145, 206. 

Feeling, 118 ff. 

Flammarion, Camille, 177, 178, 

226. 
Flechsig, Prof. P. E., 46, 89. 
Fontana, 74. 
Forgetting, 199, 238. 
Fortuity in Perception, 164, 

Figs. 10 and 11. 
Freedom of Will, 80; Limits of 

Freedom, 80. 
Fusion, 151 ff. 

Galton, Francis, 99, 142, 206, 

207, 210. 
Genius, 260. 

Gilbert, Dr. Allen, 53, 187. 
Goethe, 61. 

Habit as ^'second nature, '^ 96; 

Habits Changed, 96. 
Habituation, 92 ff.; Law of, 92; 

Foundation of, 93; Scope of, 

95. 



INDEX 



269 



Hall, G. Stanley, 266. 

Hallucinations, 149, 161, 173; 
Viridical, 177. 

Hawkins, C. J., 186. 

Hearing, 34, 164; Center of, 44; 
Organ of, 34. 

Helmholtz, Hermann, 32. 

Heredity, 98 ff., 184; Theories 
of, 101. 

Herbart, Johann Fr., 191. 

Hering, Ewald, 184. 

Hoflfding, Prof. Harold, 172. 

Hudson, T. J., 222. 

Hugo, Victor, 96. 

Hume, David, 191, 231, 246. 

Huxley, Thomas H., 70. 

Hylan,J. B.,54. 

Hyper sesthesia, 176, 234. 

Hypermnesia, 200. 

Hypnosis Defined, 238. 

Hypnotism, 59, 176; How In- 
duced, 237. 

Idealism, 214. 

Ideas, Innate, 104; Connate, 105. 

Identity, Feeling of, 245. 

Idiocy, 47, 259. 

Illusions, 149, 161, 167, 170, 
Figs. 12 and 13. 

Imagination, 74, 187, 205 ff., 
213. 

Imitation, 110, 235. 

Impulses, 106; Without Con- 
sciousness, 112. 

Induction, 217; as Conception, 
218; Relation to Deduction, 
219. 

Inhibition, 77, 236. 

Inquisitiveness, 111. 

Insanity, 100, 264; Forms of, 
265. 



Instinct, 61, 106 fT.; Reactions, 
108, 113; Premature, 114; 
Atavistic, 114; Perverse, 115. 

Intensity of Sensations, 143. 

Interest, Spheres of, 83 ff. 

Interpretation of Perception, 
160. 

Introspection, 18. 

Intuition, 222. 

Irresolution, 87. 

James, William, 20, 120, 123, 
131, 152, 153, 206, 207, 221, 
234, 247, 261. 

James-Lange Theory, 120. 

Jastrow, Joseph, 182. 

Joint-sensations, 138. 

Kant, 84, 152, 213, 230. 
Kinetic Will, 73. 
Kirkpatrick, E. A., 199. ' 
Knowledge, 118, 223 ff.; Ele- 
ments of, 223; Growth of, 225. 
Kulpe, Oswald, 119, 188. 

Ladd, G. T., 69, 119, 126, 254, 
255,258. 

Lalande, A., 195. 

Lamarck, Prof. Jean, 101. 

Lange, N., 54. 

Language, 214. 

Legroux, 199. 

Leibniz, Gottfried W., 51. 

Lessing, Gotthold E., 85. 

Life, Nature of, 22; Beginning 
of, 23. 

Lipps, Theod., 16. 

Lobes, Cerebral, 41. 

Localization of Mental Func- 
tions, 45 ff.; Sound, 166, 

Local Signs, 147, 167., 



270 



THE MENTAL MAN 



Locke, John, 105, 184, 199. 
Lombroso, Cesare, 101, 262. 
Lotze, Hermann, 168, 172. 

Macnish, R., 254. 

Martineau, Dr. James, 84. 

Masson's Disk, 54, Figs. 7 and 8. 

Mayr, Georg von, 100. 

McDougall,R.,47. 

McMaster, John B., 243. 

Measurement of Sensations, 143. 

Medulla Oblongata, 40. 

Memorial Integration, 201. 

Memory, 99, 184, 238; Organic, 
183; Maximum Power of, 186; 
Ideas, 187; Capacity of, 197; 
Kinds of, 198; Cultivation of, 
202; and Coenesthesia, 248. 

Metabolism, 47. 

Mercier, Charles, 62, 116, 249. 

Metaphysics, 15. 

Methods in Psychology, 18. 

Meynert, Theodor, 124. 

Mill, J. S., 84, 191. 

Mind, 17, 22, 59. 

Mnemonics, 204. 

Modern Criticism, 150. 

Mood, 163. 

Motive, 78. 

Motives, 83; Development of, 87. 

Motor Control, 76. 

Miinsterberg, Hugo, 166. 

Muscular, Change and Conscious- 
ness, 56; Sensations, 138. 

Mysticism, 221. 

Mythopoeic Tendency, 201. 

Nativism, 160. 
Nerve-impulses, 26. 
Nervous System, 22. 
Neuroglia, 24. 



Neurones, The, 24; Figs. 1 and 
2; Estimated Number of, 26; 
The Function of, 27; Classes 
of, 27. 

Newton, Sir Isaac, 218. 

Nisbet, J. F., 162. 

Nominalism, 214. 

Nordau, Max, 261. 

Number in Perception, 159. 

Objective Method, 19. 
Olfactory Cells, 34; Area, 44. 
Optic Nerve, 139. 
Originality, 260. 

Origin of Perception of Exter- 
nality, 159. 
Osborn, H. F., 104. 

Parallelism of Neural and Men- 
tal Activities, 47. 
Paralysis of Will, 88. 
Paramnesia, 195. 
Pathology, 17. 

Patrick, Prof. G. T. W., 53, 187. 
Perception, 158 ff., 213, 219. 
Philo the Jew, 60. 
Phonism, 142. 
Photism, 142. 
Phrenology, 46. 
Physical Basis, 22 £f. 
Pick, Dr. Arnold, 195. 
Plato, 111, 214, 221. 
Play, 110. 
Pleasure-pain, 146. 
Plotinus, 221. 
Plutarch, 173. 
Podmore, Frank, 178. 
Porter, Gen. Horace, 204. 
Porter, Noah, 203. 
Pragmatism, 84, 172. 
Precocity, 261. 



INDEX 



271 



Preyer, W. T., 166, 240. 
Primacy of Impressions, 193. 
Protoplasm, 23. 

Psychical Phenomena, 13, 175. 
Psychology, Aim of , 13 ff. 
Psycho-physics, 20. 

Quality of Objects, 158. 

Reaction Time, 32. 
Reactions, Instinct, 108. 
Realism, 214. 
Reality, Idea of, 228; Feeling of, 

229,236. 
Reason, 113; and Insanity, 264. 
Recall, 187. 
Recognition, 194; Pseudo, 195; 

and Knowing, 196. 
Recollection, Variable, 189; Ba- 
sis of, 189. 
Reflexes, 30. 
Reproduction, 190; Sporadic, 

193. 
Retention, 184; Degrees of, 185; 

Basis of, 186. 
Retina, Structure of. Fig. 4, 

37. 
Ribot, Th., 57, 89, 91, 99, 190, 

191,247, 250. 
Romanes, G. J., 113, 177. 

Sanity, 263. 

Self, The, 244 ff.; Changes of, 
247, 250. 

Schelling, F. W. J. von, 221. 

Schmoll, Anton, 178. 

Scholastics, 190, 246. 

Sensation, 124, 136 ff.; Kines- 
thetic, 77; Experienced in 
Groups, 158. 

Sensationalists, 58. 



Sensory Nerve-endings, 34, 136; 

Neurones, 24. 
Servi, 100. 

Sexual Instinct, 109. 
Shakespeare, 65, 126, 130. 
Shaw, John C, 187. 
Sherrington, Dr. Charles S., 

122. 
Sidis, Dr. Boris, 65, 239. 
Sight, Organ of, 36, 139, 168. 
Sleep, 54. 

Smell, 137, 164; Organ of, 34. 
Socrates, 60. 
Solomons, L. M., 257. 
Somsesthetic Area, 44. 
Sophists, 15. 
Soul, 59. 
Sound, 138, 164. 
Space, Idea of, 229. 
Spatiality, 148. 
Spatial Position, 159. 
Spencer, Herbert, 22. 
Spinal Cord, 30, 39. 
Spinoza, 221. 
Spitzka, Dr. E. C.,266. 
Starbuck,E. D.,221. 
StarrfM. Allen, 46. 
St. Augustine, 191. 
Stein, Gertrude, 257. 
Stetson, R. H., 207, 209. 
Stoics, 84. 

Stream of Consciousness, 59. 
Strieker, 208. 
St. Teresa, 126. 
Stumpf , Professor, 166. 
Subconscious Activity, 67 ff.; 

Explanation of, 67. 
Subjective Sensations, 149. 
Suggestion, 162, 163, 233 ff. 
Synsesthesia, 142. 
Synthesis, 151, 



272 



THE MENTAL MAN 



Taste, 138, 165; Area, 44. 
Teleology of Feeling, 122, 130. 
Telepathic Experiments, 177, 

Figs. 14-45. 
Telepathy, 177, 182. 
Temperaments, 258. 
Temperature Spots, 138. 
Teresa, St., 126. 
Thinking, 75, 216 ff. 
Thought and Movement, 233. 
Thought-movements, 217. 
Thought-transference, 177, 182. 
Threshold Value of Sensation, 

143, 146. 
Timon, 170. 

Tolstoy, Count Leo, 163. 
Tone of Feelings, 124, 125. 
Touch, 132, 138, 167. 
Types, Mental, 257. 

Understanding, 227. 



Unexplained Mental Phenom- 
ena, 175 ff. 
Unity of Nervous System, 47. 

Verga, 100. 

Virchow, Prof. Rudolf, 260. 
Visual Center, 43. 
Volume of Sensation, 148. 
Voluntarism, 71. 

Wakefulness, 58. 
Weber, E.F., 74. 
Weber, E.H., 144,147. 
Weber^s Law, 144. 
Weismann, Prof. August, 103. 
White, Dr. Wm. A., 265. 
Will, 41, 51 ff.; the Self, 245. 
Winslow, Forbes, 198. 
Wundt, Wilhelm, 122, 124, 258. 

Zacchias, 264. 



